


Secrets and Sorcery

by Blither



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Hogwarts Third Year, Hufflepuff!Harry, Mystery, No Smut, OC villain - Freeform, Voldemort is dead, starts in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27056782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blither/pseuds/Blither
Summary: Following his attack on Godric's hollow, Voldemort is permanently killed, with no hope of resurrection. While the scars of the Dark Lord's war have not faded, his absence leads to a new villain- one who's power and motivations are a mystery to all. Hufflepuff!Harry, no dedicated pairings yet, starts in third year. Please r&r.





	1. Chapter 1

I don't own Harry Potter or any affiliated concepts or characters.

Sirius ran.

The fishing town he'd swam too was far behind him, and now he was racing alongside a river, heading south-west and still in his Animagus form. The escaped prisoner wasn't even sure where he was going, exactly, only that he needed to get there before the guards at Azkaban found his cell empty and raised the alarm. Options rose up in his mind, each quickly discarded.

Night Bus? Too risky. Steal a wand and try to apparate? He wasn't sure if he would be able to apparate in his condition even if he risked robbing a wizard. Lupin? No. Even if his old friend didn't kill him on sight, he still had no reason to believe Sirius' story, not without proof.

Sirius wouldn't blame him. He'd done himself no favours by behaving like a madman when he was arrested, and he doubted he would be able explain himself much better this time around. Fine, then. Straight to the source it was.

Hogwarts.

One thought rose up to dominate his ragged mind, replacing everything else.

Find Pettigrew. Kill Pettigrew. Find Pettigrew. Kill Pettigrew. Find Pettigrew. Kill Pettigrew.

Everything else came after that one goal. Once the Rat was dead, then he could work out what else to do. Maybe he would just give himself back to the Ministry. It was what he deserved, of that much he was certain, but he would rather they imprisoned him for something he'd actually done. The only reason to stay free after taking out Pettigrew was Harry, but... the boy would likely be better off without him.

James certainly would have been.

Trying to shake the ever-present guilt off, Sirius stopped for a moment. Dwelling on the past wouldn't help him get Wormtail, and it certainly wou-

Something felt wrong.

Even rusty as they were, his animal instincts were rearing up and telling him to turn around and run or prepare for a fight.

Before he had a chance, a flash of silver entered his peripheral vision and the Animagus was frozen in place, mid step, unable to move a muscle and cursing the damage Azkaban had done to his reflexes. In the old days he would have twisted out of the way at the last second.

"Forma Verto," a voice incanted from somewhere in the darkness, and with a flash of blue light Sirius was hurled back into his human body, naked and shivering.

A figure emerged seemingly out of nowhere in front of Sirius. Male, perhaps older than Sirius, with a thick moustache and an air of respectability that translated even into a setting like this. He was smiling.

"Pleased to meet you at long last, Mr. Black. We were getting worried."

The man paused and Sirius realized his mouth was free to move despite the paralysis. That was something, at least.

"Who the fuck are you," he growled through clenched teeth. It was readily apparent the stranger wasn't with the Ministry. They wouldn't have bothered with a body-bind, or with pleasantries.

The man stepped forward and lit up his wand.

"That doesn't concern you right now. What concerns you is the squad of Aurors that are currently searching for you as of-" he pulled a pocket-watch out of his coat and checked it, "-an hour ago."

They'd been faster on his trail than he'd thought.

"They have express orders to use lethal force if you resist. Or, if you surrender. Or if they find you passed out and completely defenceless. Between you and me, the minister is not particularly concerned with your well-being, and nor will the public when they find out you escaped. I am your one and only hope of salvation now. I hope you realize how staggeringly lucky you are."

Sirius worked up just enough energy to spit at the man's feet.

"Piss off old man, I wasn't born yesterday. I can handle the Aurors and I'm not going to be tricked into owing a life debt by someone I've never met and can't trust," he said.

"You can't handle them if I leave you trapped here," the man countered, seemingly unperturbed by Sirius' hostility, "but when it comes down to it, I have always preferred the carrot to the stick."

With that, the stranger withdrew a photo from within another coat pocket and placed it in front of Sirius. Paralysed, Sirius' only expression of the shock he felt was by violently cursing.

The photo was of Peter Pettigrew, older than Sirius had ever seen him, shaking hands with someone with their back to the camera.

The stranger spoke up, clearly taking Sirius' stunned silence as an invitation, "This photo was taken shortly after Mr. Pettigrew agreed to a similar proposal I am about to offer you. It is also a one-way Portkey which will take you to a safe house. We will have time to discuss this better tomorrow when you are rested, so I will put it simply: if you want any chance at all of revenge, or of staying out of the ministry's hands, then take the Portkey. Otherwise I will leave you to your own devices."

With that, the man released Sirius from paralysis and in the same movement apparated away. For a few long moments Sirius just stared at the photo, features twisted in anger, before he reached out and grabbed it. With a lurch, the world fell away.

Harry tried and failed to contain his excitement.. Two long months at the Dursley's had been so unbearable that he wondered how he'd managed to survive it for so long. At first, he had been happy that the Dursleys were more-or-less ignoring him, but it hadn't taken long for boredom to set in. After two years of Hogwarts, Surrey had become painfully dull. Even more than that, Harry missed his classmates in Hufflepuff.

King's Cross was bustling with Muggles and magic-users alike, and Harry was glad his family had left so quickly after dropping him off. He was sure they would not have approved of some of the more obvious wizards attempts to blend in with the muggle population. Grinning at one man in purple star-covered robes and a ludicrously tall top hat, Harry wondered how wizarding society had managed to stay hidden for so long. Certainly not through caution on the part of wizard-kind. Then again, who could possibly care what muggles thought of you when you had magic.

The cool sensation of the hidden passageway passed over him as he entered the less crowded, but decidedly more chaotic, platform 9 3/4 and immediately started craning his neck to look for anyone he recognized. Wishing he was taller, the 13-year-old hurried over to the nearest entrance to the Hogwarts Express. He was almost late.

"Thanks, Dudley," he said to himself.

After some effort Harry boarded the train and started moving down the corridor, greeting the few familiar faces he saw.

"Harry!"

The voice originated from a grinning face poking out of carriage, and Harry yelled back a greeting in turn.

"Ernie!"

"Good to see you again Harry, me and Justin-"

"-Justin and I-"

"-Shut up, me and Justin were getting worried that Black might have got to you on the way here."

Harry, used to the two bickering, ignored Justin's interruption and sat heavily next to the other occupant of the carriage, Ernie Macmillan.

"Where's Hannah and Susan?"

Ernie shrugged, "Off giggling with the other girls I imagine, you know how they are, no house loyalty at all."

Justin leaned forward eagerly. The boy was seemingly barely stopping himself from jumping out of his seat. Justin normally prided himself on his composure- a consequence of having been brought up in a strict upper-class household. He had never actually told them how wealthy his family was, but given the way he threw Galleons around Harry could guess.

"Harry, old chap, Ernie was just telling me all about that Black fellow and his escape from Azkaban- I'm sure you know how bloody hard it is getting information while cooped up away from Hogwarts. Seems like a right piece of work from what Ern' was saying."

Harry nodded wearily. He'd had such a flood of letters telling him about Sirius Black that at this point Harry felt like he knew the madman personally. One particular uncomfortable message had detailed the reason that the Death Eater was caught, and his personal relation to Harry. He was glad he'd found that particular information while at the Dursley's- he'd had plenty of time to vent his anger somewhere he didn't have access to magic.

"-worried you might do something stupid like going after him if he showed up at Hogwarts. You still listening?"

Harry tuned back into the conversation, and replied, "Don't worry, even I'm not dumb enough to go after a Death Eater."

"He'd have to be mad to show up here anyway, what with the new guards the ministry brought in," Ernie said with the unmistakably smug aura of someone who knew a secret and wasn't going to share it in a hurry.

Refusing to rise to the bait, Harry just stared at him, waiting to see whose willpower would crumble first. Predictably, it was Justin's.

"What new guards?"

Ernie sat back, smearing the biggest shit-eating grin possible across his face.

"Can't say I'm afraid, it's all a bit hush-hush, really a big secret," he said.

"Dammit Justin, he would have told us eventually if we just didn't ask."

Having to be content for the moment with waiting, and refusing to give him the satisfaction of asking again, Harry instead suggested a game of exploding snap as the train took off. The boys quickly fell into an easy camaraderie, swapping stories of their holidays, not that Harry had much to share. It was good to be back.

Ernie, who had the ability to make even seemingly boring stories seem exciting through a mix of charisma and cheerful exaggeration, was regaling them with a tale about how some distant cousin had set fire to their families furniture when the first set of cards detonated, covering Harry in soot.

Like clockwork, the door to their carriage opened and Draco Malfoy entered, not even bothering to knock and flanked as ever by Crabbe and Goyle. Harry had never actually bothered to learn their first names. The blonde pureblood didn't even bother commenting on Harry's misfortune except to raise an eyebrow before turning to Ernie and Justin.

"Still hanging out with this lot, Potter? Thought you might have found some better friends over the holidays- oh, my mistake, I forgot you have to live with Muggles."

"Piss off Malfoy," Harry replied easily, "unless you wanna fight right here on the train?"

Despite what the rest of the school might have thought, their fabled midnight battle in first year hadn't been anything to write home about. Without either of them actually knowing how to cast a shield charm or counterspell, let alone any particularly useful combat magic, it had mostly consisted of insults, poorly aimed hexes, and a lot of dodging.

Since then the two had enjoyed a usually friendly- and frequently very unfriendly- rivalry that included occasional rematches of their first duel.

Draco smirked. "I'll save my tricks for the Club, Potter. I hope you're ready, I doubt anyone else in your pathetic house will be any real challenge."

"I'll take that as a complement."

"I wouldn't. Think of yourself as being the king of a very unimportant town, full of peasants and dirty pigeons."

This insult to Hufflepuff was more than Ernie could take and he stood up, drawing his wand.

"It's three on three Malfoy, maybe we should have a scrap, just to ring in the new year," he said.

Draco seemed to consider it for a minute before instead snickering and turning to leave, "Like I said Macmillan, I'll save it for a properly appreciative audience. We've all been waiting two years to join it, I'm sure even you can wait another week. You can be my warmup before I take on Potter, how about that?"

"I'll warm you up with an incendium to the face and see just how bloody good you are Mal-"

Something stopped Ernie mid-sentence as all the colour drained from his face. A second later the rest of the compartment's inhabitants realized why as chill swept across the train. A light, almost imperceptible frost began to spread up from the floor covering the seats they were sitting on.

The cold went deeper than just the temperature, as though it also made the mind and soul of the students feel frozen down to the core. In a moment, the only colour left was grey, the only sound the whistling of wind through a long-abandoned building. It was like someone had draped a sodden blanket over every living thing on the train, leaving them damp and trapped in place beneath its weight.

Dementors.

Malfoy and his goons gave some very un-manly shrieks and fled in the opposite direction, not that Harry could blame them. Had his legs been working properly he would likely have done the same. Seconds later, something dark and cloaked passed by their window, moving too hideously smoothly along the hallway to be anything alive.

Harry had read about Dementors last year with Ernie and they had both agreed after some debate that were they to come across one, they would be able to handle its effects without the Patronus charm. Harry had thought himself brave enough to stand up to it's effects, pictured himself in a childish fancy as the sole person in a crowd of students not cowering against the terror of the dark creature, holding onto his pride even in the face of the undead.

In that moment Harry realized there was no such thing as bravery or pride in the face of a Dementor's chill. It wasn't that they made you sad- it was that they made you forget there anything but sadness.

A second later it moved passed their carriage and that dreadful feeling passed. With a gasp he suddenly remembered to breath, and the compartment was silent except for the occasional shout of alarm or scream as the hooded figure made its way quickly down the carriage. In a few minutes it had completed the rotation and the train could start up again, but its effects lingered in the minds of everyone for longer than that.

Justin broke the silence.

"Fuck!"

"C-couldn't have put it better myself," muttered Ernie, sitting down as the tension left his body. "Dementors."

Harry just nodded dumbly. For a moment, as the Dementor had passed, he could have sworn he heard a woman's voice crying out faintly. It had almost sounded like she was crying out his name.

Ernie swallowed hard and attempted to talk some life back into the carriage.

"Well lads, no need to let some bloody undead interrupt our game, right?"

"Technically Malfoy interrupted-

"-shut up and help me collect the cards you twat."

In a few moments the two were bickering again as Harry watched, the Dementors momentarily forgotten. Despite the terror he was almost glad- if he had spent thirteen years locked up with those creatures then he would want to avoid them at all costs. Black would have to be completely insane to come to Hogwarts now.


	2. Chapter 2

Just as the old man had promised, the portkey had taken Sirius to a small, sparsely furnished apartment consisting of a kitchen, a small living area, and a bedroom.

Without a wand Sirius had no way of knowing what wards and charms were coating the building. For all he knew the whole place was a beacon for the Aurors, but at that point the former prisoner was too exhausted to even care. Besides, the old man had said it best- he could have just left Sirius there to be found if he'd wanted too.

There was food in the kitchen- eggs, toast and bacon- that had all the hallmarks of being made by a house elf. To his surprise, there was also a packet of muggle chocolate. Someone seemed to be looking out for his wellbeing- or they were trying to buy his trust.

Next to the bed were two potions. The first was a cloudy purple with the words " _To sleep_ " on it, and other was bubbling and red, " _To wake up."_

By all rights Sirius should have thrown the potions down the sink and then covered the floor in tripwires before going to sleep, but thirteen years of nightmares made the thought of a Dreamless Sleep potion too tempting to resist.

_Fuck it. If they come for me there's nothing I could do anyway._

In one motion he threw back the concoction and seconds later was snoring.

For twelve hours Sirius slept.

* * *

-"make no mistake, Dementors are dark creatures that should not be trifled with, but I am confident that if none of you antagonize them, then they will not antagonize _you_."

Headmistress McGonagall speech was, as always, straightforward and to the point. Harry fondly remembered the headmaster that had been in charge during his first year. The old man's opening monologue had rambled on for so long that he had to be gently reminded by McGonagall- then the transfiguration professor- to get to the point.

"I have utmost trust in the two ministry escorts-" the headmistress gestured to the two dour looking men standing beside the teachers table- "-to keep the Dementors in line if necessary."

The crimson robed Aurors had been standing to each side of the entrance to the Great Hall when the students had entered. One had their wand lit up with an orange light and were waving it past each student as they walked past.

"What do you think they were looking for? It's not like Black is going to be hiding under our cloaks," Ernie had said when they sat down.

Susan replied before Justin got the chance, much to his consternation.

"We learned about Polyjuice potion _last year._ How is it possible you manage to forget so much in two months?"

The disturbing thought that anyone in Hogwarts could be Black in disguise had momentarily silenced all of them. Dementors were bad, but at least you knew they were coming ahead of time. Despite Professor Sprouts assurances- who had pulled him aside shortly after the train stopped- that the ministry was only being cautious and Black was just as likely to head to London than Hogwarts, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt that this was mostly because of him.

Mcgonnagall was still talking, "It is also with equal parts sorrow and excitement that I announce the retirement of Professor Ericcson. In his sixteen years of service teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, I counted Ericcson as both a trusted adviser, and a friend..."

Harry sent a surprised look across the table at Justin. The old DADA teacher had been well liked among the students, even if Ernie held a grudge at him- apparently, he had originally been behind limiting the duelling club to third-years and above. He would have thought Ericcson would have announced a retirement at the end of last year and received a proper send-off. Maybe the man didn't like fanfare.

"...however, as an old friend once said to me, an ending is only sad if there is no new beginning to come after it. I am pleased to welcome our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Ignatius Carrick. I trust you will all give him a warm welcome."

The gathered students dutifully gave a round of applause, and Harry turned to look at the new professor, wondering how he hadn't noticed a stranger sitting where Ericcson would normally be.

The man looked like he had spent most of life working in the sun, skin tanned to a dark brown with the appearance of hardened leather. Broad shoulders reminded Harry of the men on Dudley's wrestling shows and a long, jagged scar ran diagonally along the length of his face. He looked more like a dragon tamer than a teacher.

Despite a fearsome appearance, Carrick was grinning from ear to ear as he looked across the length of the hall, waving cheerfully at the assembled students.

"Without further ado, let us begin the feast!"

With that, Mcgonnagall sat down and the tables filled with food. The Hufflepuffs took a few moments to appreciate the meal- not much will interrupt a train of thought better than an entire roasted turkey appearing in front of you- before the conversation turned inevitably to Sirius Black.

"-think it'll be enough to stop Black? Three Dementors and two Aurors don't seem like much of a-"

"-last I heard he was heading south anyway, he probably-"

"-reckon I could take him; I mean he's been in Azkaban for so long-"

Fearing that boredom would kill him long before any crazy escaped prisoners did, Harry tried to change the subject, nudging Ernie and saying as loudly as possible, "What do you think about the new teacher?"

"Seems like he'll be less boring than Ericcson, at least," the other boy said, "Apparently Sue's aunt knows him- _hey Sue, what were you saying about Carrick before?_ "

Harry's ploy worked at least temporarily, and the conversation was thankfully diverted until the end of the feast. He had the unfortunate feeling that Black would be all anyone would talk about until he was caught.

* * *

The first week back was surprisingly hectic, as the Hogwarts curriculum apparently decided to take off the kids gloves at third year. Snape and Flitwick led the charge in handing out essays, and the other teachers weren't far behind.

Transfiguration had begun, rather ominously, with a safety lecture that had covered most of the lesson, with the rest being made up of revision, a theme that continued for the entire first week. Apparently, Professor Sabbath thought that whatever they would be learning was a serious step-up from last year. At the start of the second week he was proved right- turning inanimate object into animals turned out to be far harder than doing the opposite.

The class everyone was curious about was, of course, Defence Against the Dark Arts and the new professor.

"Let's jump right in, shall we? Our first topic will be curses, and how to defend against them," Carrick said once all the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor students had arrived.

That piqued the interest of the class. The first two years of DADA had mostly been made up of studying various creatures and learning how to identify dark magic. And since the faculty couldn't actually bring a vampire or wendigo into class it ended up mostly consisting of looking at moving images and writing essays about them. Curses were another matter entirely.

"For this lesson," the weathered professor continued, "We will start by identifying cursed objects and avoiding them. In each of your desk drawers there are five items- by the end of the lesson I will expect all of you to be able to tell which are cursed. But first, open your textbooks to page one-hundred and twenty-four."

Harry's hopes of an all-practical lesson were quashed. It turned out to be a lot more entertaining than he'd thought however, as halfway through the lesson Carrick announced that they could begin trying to single out the non-cursed item and bring it to the front whenever they felt confident. Most of the students that immediately tried- mostly Gryffindors, predictably- ended up failing miserably, and had to deal with various light curses.

Fear curses seemed to his favourite, and seeing Ron Weasley try to hide under his desk from a wave of invisible spiders was certainly fun. Other students had to deal with inflated fingers or temporarily speaking only in rhymes, and the whole class soon became equated with the professors roaring laughter as he undid each curse with a wave of his wand.

By the end of the lesson Harry had narrowed it down to two of his objects- a leather-bound book and a ring- and deciding that caution was the better part of valour, levitated the ring up to the front without touching it. He earned five points for his caution, and then promptly got them taken away when it turned out he'd guessed wrong.

Harry decided he liked Carrick- the man certainly seemed to be having a lot more fun teaching than anyone else except perhaps Flitwick.

* * *

 _Finally,_ after what felt like several years the start of third week began, and with it the two most important aspects of Hogwarts life: Quidditch, and the duelling club. And while the first game of Quidditch with Hufflepuff wouldn't happen for another two weeks, the duelling club hit the ground running.

The seventh-floor room they were using had clearly been enlarged to be several times bigger than it should be, and was lined with raised square platforms like boxing rings along the walls. At the end of the hall was Professor Carrick, Professor Snape and a very worried looking Madame Pomfrey, no doubt thinking about the potential injuries that could result from having fifty odd students slinging spells at each other. Not for the first time, Harry silently cheered at the staggering lack of safety regulations in the wizarding world.

Snape spoke first, using a _Sonorus_ charm to amplify his voice.

"Beyond the first lesson, this club will not be about _teaching_ students the art of duelling," the dour professor explained, "Any and all spells that may be of use to you in a duel will be taught in other classes or may be self-taught in your free time. What it _is_ is a sanctioned time and space to hone your abilities against other students. With this _casual_ atmosphere in mind, I expect that any _grievances_ you may have between yourselves will be aired out here rather than in the hallways."

He lowered a particularly dark glare at the assembled group of Gryffindors as he said the last statement, and Carrick spoke up.

"Professor Snape and I are in agreement that it would be best for this group to be divided by year group and not house, but if any of you feel the need to sort something out with a student in a higher year then feel free to do it here where we can stop you killing each other. With that said, we should go over safety measures and rules..."

Harry only half-listened as Carrick went over what he already knew- _no permanent injuries, no curses that aren't approved, try not to be as stupid as you all look-_ having spent a good portion of last year pestering older students about the club.

"Alright, the three of us can't look after all of you at once so get into groups of five or six and find a ring. Anyone who doesn't want to duel someone else today, there's plenty of training dummies on the far wall."

Harry immediately looked over to Draco, and the pureblood gestured to the ring closest to him. Harry moved over to him, and after a few minutes of shuffling around groups also ended up with Ernie and two Slytherins, Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. Harry knew barely anything about either of them, except that they were clearly more reliable with a wand than Crabbe and Goyle, who had been swiftly abandoned to find themselves in a group of Gryffindors.

The five of them quickly started participating in a tradition even older than duelling- trash talking. It was, Harry reflected, a form of friendship. If they'd been _actual_ enemies then the words flung back and forth between them would probably have ended in curses being fired long before stepping into the ring.

Finally, Carrick spoke up.

"Alright, start whenever you'd like. No more than two at a time and please _try_ not to get yourselves expelled."

Zabini and Ernie went first. After a few minutes of back-and-forth Ernie finally realized that the Slytherin was a lot better at dodging and parrying than using shields and starting to throw out weak hexes until one connected. He was then promptly taken out by Greengrass- " _it was just a lucky shot, I coulda' won"-_ who walked out of the room with a sneer, seemingly content to take a win then leave. In the corner of his eye Harry could see Justin getting completely dominated by a Gryffindor girl with bushy hair- with her back to him he couldn't make out who exactly it was.

Finally, Harry took a position up on the stage opposite his rival and bowed.

Not even bothering with a taunt, Draco started casting immediately.

" _Serpensortia_!"

Well, that was a sort of taunt. Immediately, a coiled snake sprang from his wand, hissing angrily and slithering towards Harry.

" _Evanesco_ ," he snapped back, watching the conjured reptile disappear with a small "pop."

Their first duel had ended with Draco using that spell, resulting in Harry fleeing out of the room and promptly being caught by Filch. He had asked Professor McGonagall during the resulting detention, and she had explained that while the vanishing spell was technically a fourth-year spell, it was far easier to banish an item that had been _directly_ summoned- so easy, in fact, a first year could do it.

Unwilling to let him keep his initiative, Harry responded quickly with a stunner and a migraine hex- Susan's favourite- both of which Draco took on a shield charm.

 _Since when could he take two spells on one_ Protego?

Moving quicker, both boys started sending weak hexes at each other, neither willing to try anything spectacular until they had each other's measure.

" _Nasa vespertia!"_

_"Huria!"_

_"Aculea!"_

_"Augmenti!"_

The last charm gave Draco pause, and he swore as a torrent of water hit him. Moments later the stream was stopped with a vanisher of his own, and Harry's wand bucked in his hand at the magical backlash. The blonde shot him a poisonous glare, but Harry didn't give him a chance to properly reply.

_"Stupefy! Huria!"_

Draco's wand moved intercepted both smoothly and Harry took a moment to be impressed. Parrying a spell required two skills- timing and reflexes, and it was clear that the pureblood had improved in both aspects.

Still, he had him on the defensive now, and followed it up with a barrage of stunners and disarming charms, hoping something would connect. The purebloods wandwork became frantic, throwing up a shield and diving to the side, avoiding a stunner but finding himself cornered, wand out of position.

_Got him._

" _Contrarium mutatio!_ " Draco yelled, desperation clouding his voice.

Draco's wand glowed a bright yellow for a few seconds, and Harry felt the arena _change_ in a way he couldn't properly describe. It was like the entire room was moving at great speed, but in no particular direction.

Then, quite suddenly and without explanation, he was upside-down.

Harry let out an embarrassing yelp and felt his legs instinctively collapse as the ceiling now appeared thirty feet below him.

 _I'm not falling, so it's just an illusion,_ a detached voice said in his head, but the solid jolt of adrenaline and terror that had coursed through him effectively banished any logical thoughts. Harry _was_ aware enough to jump out of the way of Draco's next spell, but instead of moving left his body went right instead and he crashed into the border rope.

_What the hell is this?_

He was so disorientated that the next stinging hex hit him dead-on, and Draco openly laughed at him before following it up with a tripping Jinx as Harry tried to stand up, dropping him with a shout.

" _Finite Incantatum,"_ he said, trying to take advantage of the Slytherin toying with him, but the effects of curse didn't reverse.

Harry realized that the fight was effectively over, and Malfoy was just trying to force a surrender out of him to further wound his pride.

 _Fuck my pride, I'm about to throw up._ Moments later a shower of blue sparks erupted from Harry's wand, signalling the end of the fight.

* * *

 _The Confundus charm can be easily countered with a simple_ Finite Incantatum. _This rule also applies to descendant spells of the Confundus charm, such as the Backwards charm and the Topsy-Turvy curse (see page 241.) This, combined with the effects of the spell being lessened if the target is aware they are affected gives them limited use in combat._

Harry huffed in frustration as he closed _Charms: The Fundamentals._ So far, the closest thing he'd found to Malfoy's spell was the _Topsy-Turvy_ Curse, but it was a projectile and _Finite Incantatum_ hadn't worked. The smart thing to do would be to ask a teacher, but that felt wrong, like an even greater admission of defeat than surrendering had been. Besides, he was fairly sure most of the teachers would just tell him to focus on his homework rather than duelling.

"Harry, come look at this!"

Harry looked up, seeing the diminutive form of Hannah Abbot clutching a thick leather-bound tome like a shield. The girl had arrived at the school with all the confidence of a dormouse **,** and despite every effort from her classmates remained completely introverted. Ernie in particular had spent most of second year volunteering her for everything he could find, including one particularly disastrous pick-up game of quidditch. This had mostly resulted in a lot of tears and Susan getting to test out several creative new curses, and he eventually gave up entirely.

Glad for a distraction, Harry followed her across the library and into one of the small study rooms, and found the smiling figure of Luna Lovegood waiting there. He mostly knew the second year by reputation as an oddball even by Ravenclaw's standards. Hannah, nervously chewing her lip, sat down opposite Luna.

"Hello Harry," she said dreamily, "Hannah and I were just discussing Dementors. She's deathly afraid of them you know."

That was predictable enough.

"Fair enough," He replied, sitting down with them.

Hannah shot a more than a little annoyed glance at the other girl. "I'm not _deathly_ afraid of them, I just... I'd just feel better if I could know where they were. I was asking Luna to help me with a _Point Me_ charm for them."

The basic location charm was taught in second year, but as far as Harry understood it became more difficult to use the spell depending on the target. An inanimate object was easy, animals were slightly harder, and it took a great deal of continuous concentration to work on another sentient being like a person. He wasn't exactly sure where Dementors sat on that scale.

"And?"

"And," Luna replied, placing her wand flat on the palm of her hand, "It's behaving _awfully_ strangely, even for magic, and I think you'll agree magic can be pretty strange. _Point Me_ Dementor Number one!"

The wand lifted into the air and span straight around, pointing at one of the walls. She did it again, this time with "Dementor Number two", and the wand span around to point in the opposite direction.

"Point Me, Dementor Number three!"

This time, however, the wand shakily turned in one direction, then the other, then began weakly spinning in circles.

Hannah explained, "We gave them numbers so the spell would work, it was Luna's idea. The first Dementor is the one patrolling the airspace above the school, the second is outside the walls. The third was _meant_ to be in the Forbidden Forest."

That was troubling.

"Maybe it's just too far away? The forbidden forest is a lot bigger than it looks." In fact, Harry's own experiences there made him suspect it was enchanted to be so.

Hannah responded by pulling out her own wand and saying, "Point Me, John Abbot."

The wand responded by shakily turning for a second before falling back down into her hand.

"They're away in South America on holiday right now," she said. "This is something else."

Despite the flimsy evidence, Harry started to feel uneasy. While he wouldn't complain about one of the Dementors going missing, something about the whole situation worried him for reasons he couldn't properly explain. _Point Me_ wouldn't work on anything that didn't exist, so it had to still be alive- actually no-one seemed to be completely sure if it was even _possible_ to kill a Dementor- so something else must have happened to it.

"So what, do we tell the Aurors?"

Hannah shook her head. "They already know, I think. Erica told me that Nathan's brother James- you know they're dating? - saw Hagrid talking with the Aurors outside the Forbidden Forest. Apparently, they looked pretty worried."

As Harry mentally worked out the chain of people that information had passed along, Luna started talking again.

"It's rather worrying that a Dementor could escape captivity, yet another sign of the Ministry's growing incompetence. This kind of thing is why Daddy thinks we should all rise up and overthrow them. He calls it "the Day of the Grim". Do either of you read the Quibbler?"

Harry, only half listening, replied in the negative then turned to Hannah. "Well its interesting and I won't complain about one less Dementor. Once everyone hears about this they'll _really_ start freaking out."

Luna cocked her ahead as though listening for something and said, "Maybe you could ask your spider friends that Hannah was telling me about if they saw anything?"

" _HANNAH!"_

* * *

The same man that had brought Sirius to the safe-house had rang the doorbell an hour after he had woken up.

Sirius had spent most of that hour inspecting the rooms he had been confined in, the exterior doors being fasted shut with more than just a physical lock. He had found _dozens_ of sets of runic wards indented or subtly painted throughout the three rooms. The subject wasn't exactly Sirius' strong suit, but from he could tell the place was layered with disillusionment charms, observation wards, and silent alarms linked to somewhere unknown, all charmed made to be near-unbreakable. The only reason to use runic chains like this was if the place was meant to go completely unused for long periods of time, and no-one would be able to refresh temporary charms.

He had been about to start copying them down for later when the old man had knocked. He had let him in, not seeing much point in making trouble at this point, and he had sat down at the kitchen table, smiling politely up at Sirius.

"Did you rest well, Mr. Black?"

"Yes. Thank you for the potions, and for your... hospitality, but I have some questions."

The gentlemanly figure gestured broadly, as though telling him to go ahead.

Sirius sat opposite him, avoiding eye contact. His occlumency had never been the best even before Azkaban, and it never hurt to be careful.

"Well firstly, you have me at a disadvantage. What's your name?"

"You may call me Atticus. It is not my real name, but I think it would be wise if you knew as little about my organisation as possible, including real identities," Atticus said.

Sirius accepted that with a nod.

"Alright then, 'Atticus'. Why are you helping me? And why are you helping the Rat?" A mote of barely contained aggression entered his tone as he mentioned Pettigrew.

Atticus answered, "It is simple, Mr. Black. We require your assistance with a small matter, as we do with Mr. Pettigrew. It is a simple matter of business, which is why we helped you."

Sirius snarled. "I didn't _ask_ for help. don't owe you anything."

The gentlemanly figure nodded, unperturbed. "You are forgetting our earlier conversation, Mr. Black. Mr. Pettigrew agreed to work with us because we threatened him with simple violence, but our deal with you will be far less.. _. one-sided_."

"I get the Rat," Sirius said.

"Indeed. In truth we care nothing about your little dispute, but will happily hand over Mr. Pettigrew as payment upon completion of your task."

Sirius sat for a long minute, thinking. The desire for revenge was overwhelming, made him want to accept the offer immediately, but he forced himself to consider the facts.

"How do I know I can trust you? For all I know you'll just off me after I'm done and keep the Rat on your payroll. A man everyone thinks is dead is surely more valuable to you than one everyone is looking for," he said.

Atticus smiled broadly, sitting back as though a deal had already been agreed on.

"If you are looking for a guarantee, then I can only offer you one. If you do not agree to work with us, then we will set Pettigrew free after the conclusion of our business, and I can assure you he will not be so incautious as to allow you to find him, not when your efforts will be hindered by the authorities. You, Mr. Black, will live the rest of your life on the run knowing that your friend's killer and the man responsible for your incarceration is roaming free, _laughing_ at you. _That_ is a guarantee."

Ah. He had been offered the carrot, here was the stick.

He continued, "but for what it is worth, Mr. Black, if you _use_ Mr. Pettigrew to prove your innocence, as I'm sure you were hoping to do, everyone will no longer be looking for you. And as a free man, you will be _far_ more useful to my organisation simply through your continued existence."

In truth, Sirius' only plan for Pettigrew was to tear him into pieces. More worryingly was that last statement- had the old man said something he shouldn't? It didn't really matter- he was right in that Sirius had no real choice in the matter. If he wanted any chance of revenge than he would have to go along with this. For now.

"I won't kill anyone for you. Enough good people have died because of me," he said.

Atticus nodded. "We anticipated you might say as much. We aren't asking you to kill anyone, though I'm sure it would make your job easier. We are simply requesting that you acquire something of great value for us. We chose _you_ because the ministry has kill-on-sight orders for you, and so in the event of your capture, those parties who are working _against_ my organisation will be unable to obtain any information about us."

The man reached into a coat pocket and removed a spherical brass device, setting it on the table. It sprang open with a sharp _click,_ revealing a needle and a spiralling channel set into black, greasy stone.

"All pertinent information can be found on this- it's coded to your blood, and I'm sure you can figure out how it works. You will have absolutely no resources available to you apart from what is in this safehouse and what you can obtain for yourself, and will receive no help whatsoever from us. I'm sure you can understand why."

"You're assuming I'm agreeing to all this."

Atticus just smiled and withdrew one more item from his coat, placing it onto the table along with the brass device before standing.

"We would not have sought you out if we didn't know you would accept, Mr. Black."

With that he disapparated away, and Sirius was left with only his thoughts, the device, and a wand.

11 Inches, Oak with a dragon scale core. The same wand that had been snapped thirteen years ago when Sirius was put into Azkaban.

Fine. It didn't matter _how_ they had got it back, all that mattered was that he had a wand, and having a wand changed everything. With each word the old man had said, Sirius had become increasingly sure that whoever was in charge of all this couldn't be trusted. It was a feeling based more on instinct than logic, but the longer Sirius sat at that table the surer of it he became. Something about Atticus felt _off._

Sirius' reached out and grabbed the needle contraption, inspecting it closely. He had seen plenty of dark objects keyed to a particular person's blood, and several designed for imparting information. With one motion he pressed his thumb into the needle before withdrawing and watching the trickle of blood run through the black stone channel. It pooled at the bottom then disappeared into a previously unseen crevice.

Nothing happened.

_Well, shit. If the thing is faulty, I don't exactly have a way of getting a new-_

Sirius' went completely rigid. Clearly whoever had invented this method of sharing information hadn't cared a mote about the comfort of its user, as it felt like each piece of information had to carve its way through this skull and brain matter before it was absorbed.

After what felt like hours, but was probably only a few seconds, Sirius collapsed on the table, groaning. The device shuddered, then slowly crumbled to dust in his hand.

_Remus._

_I need to find Remus._


	3. Chapter 3

_"You doin' alright back there lads?"_

_Harry dutifully answered in the positive while Malfoy continued silently glaring daggers at Hagrid's back. The blonde had made his feelings about the whole situation clear, bemoaning the unfairness of being sent into the Forbidden Forest with a "_ great big oaf," _for detention. The fact that this was completely his own fault was, of course, being willfully ignored. Harry was just glad he wasn't being forced to clean cauldrons for Snape like Crabbe and Ernie._

 _"Ah cheer up Malfoy, ye're goin to be seein' somethin' special tonight. Technically ye're meant to be scrapin' out the flobberworm cage, but I thought that was a bit harsh," The giant said, clearly excited. He'd refused to say what the two students would actually be_ doing _in the forest, which just made Malfoy more terrified._

 _"Yes, I_ understand _that you think we should be enjoying this, but you're an_ idiot _," the blonde pureblood whined, apparently oblivious to the fact that no one in earshot cared about his opinion, "and when my father hears about this you're going to_ _be_ fired _from this bloody school."_

 _Harry sent him a glare. "Oh shut up Malfoy, it could be far worse. Filch wanted to_ whip _us for Merlin's sake."_

_Hagrid stopped suddenly, looking around and then back at the students. The boys moved around and beside him and saw why. Ahead of them, the path dropped off into a steep decline, and in the darkness Harry could see what looked like a massive thicket of bushes and dead trees formed into a rough circle._

_Malfoy looked even paler than normal. "I'm not bloody going in there. They can let Filch hang me up by my thumbs but I'm_ not _going in there."_

_"Ah nonsense, it's perfectly safe. You can stay here if you want but you'll be on yer' own, right Harry?"_

_Harry gulped, looking down at the imposing mass of plant life. He thought he could just about see something moving around in there, but wasn't sure if it was real or just a trick of his imagination. Still, Hagrid was his friend, and loyalty_ was _one of the characteristics of a true Hufflepuff._

 _"What exactly is_ in _there Hagrid," he said, unsure._

_The groundskeeper just beamed down at him._

_"Old friend of mine by the name of Aragog is visiting here fer a bit of an inspection. The Acromantulas are expanding out y'know, since they're breedin' so much lately- one nest just isn't big enough any more. I figured since there's only gonna be a few of the em' there at the moment it'd be the perfect time to introduce them to more people, try an' foster a sense of community."_

_That was apparently Malfoy's breaking point and he dropped to the ground, muttering faintly about spiders and his father interchangeably. Harry kept his terror at a minimum, more out of ignorance than bravery, and looked again down at the "nest." He could definitely see movement now, several horse-sized shadows moving steadily towards them._

_"Ah that'll be the greeting party. Acromantulas are very territorial, best wait to be invited first," Hagrid said._

_Sure enough, the three of them were soon surrounded by half a dozen massive spiders, each one chittering away in a strange language as they inspected the intruders. Even Hagrid looked faintly nervous. Finally, the largest of them moved up and,_ _to Harry's astonishment,_ _spoke in garbled English,_

_"Hairy-man welcome here. Small-men food-gifts?"_

_Hagrid gave it a stern look, as though the six-foot arachnid was a rowdy schoolchild, and replied, "O' course not, Maloran, these are friends. Er, Nest-mates, not fer' eatin' you understand? If you eat them I'll be angry, and_ Dumbledore _will be even angrier."_

_This was apparently enough for the Acromantula, and it shrank back, apparently terrified by the thought of angering the headmaster. The old man seemed fairly harmless- bordering on senile- to Harry, but apparently he held some serious influence here._

_"Fear-sorry, small-men friends like Hairy-man, come see Aragog then leave please-yes?"_

_The formalities over, all three began descending down the incline. Even Malfoy was following with a sort of dreamy expression on his face._ _Harry sent him a questioning look._

_"Dad says when you use the Cruciatus curse on someone for long enough they stop being able to feel any pain at all. I think something like that happened with me," he said cheerfully. Hagrid shot him an inscrutable look, but didn't say anything._

_After less than a minute- the spiders and Hagrid set a fast pace, and neither boy wanted to let the Acromantulas behind them catch up- they reached the entrance to the thicket and went through. Under the light of a near-full moon, Harry could make out at least another dozen shapes moving around above them. They seemed to be spinning massive webs, forming a sort of "ceiling" across the circular walls of the nest._

_In the center, a mound of eggs could just barely be made out, guarded by one absolutely_ massive _shape. It was at least three times bigger than the other Acromantulas, and loomed over everything like a king surveying his new castle. Beyond it's size, there was something_ different _about this one- it had an air of authority, of natural leadership that transcended species._

_"Ullo' Aragog, I see you've been busy!"_

_A scratchy, hissing sound filled the air, and it took a moment for the boys to realize it was laughter._

_"Hagrid," the monstrous spider said in perfect English, "It has been far too long, old friend."_

* * *

Harry shook himself out of his reverie, glaring at Hannah.

"I wouldn't say we're _friends,_ we met once and Hagrid did most of the talking. It's also sort of meant to be a _secret_ , Hannah, Hagrid could get in real trouble."

The diminutive brunette shrank down, looking rather ashamed. "Um, well, honesty is one of the house values, right?"

"I wouldn't worry Harry," Luna said, "I'm pretty sure Dumbledore knew- he tended to know everything- and since McGonagall became Headmistress Hagrid says he isn't allowed to take Detentions anymore."

Hannah took a moment to stop cowering and turn to the Ravenclaw. "You're friends with Hagrid?"

Luna nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, daddy visited him all the time when I was little. He used to let me ride around on the Thestrals."

Harry didn't know what Thestrals were, but knowing Hagrid they probably had lots of teeth and were completely unsuitable for a child to sit on. The half-giant may have been kind and loyal to a fault- Harry often thought that the only reason he hadn't been sorted into Hufflepuff was because he wouldn't have fit through the hidden entrance- but he also tended to treat even the most dangerous of magical beasts like pets. At least Acromantulas could be reasoned with- he couldn't say the same about the groundskeepers' pet Graphorn.

Harry drew his own wand thoughtfully, spinning then tapping it against the table.

"If they want to work out what happened to the Dementor, talking to Aragog would probably be the best place to start, and for that they'd have to go through Hagrid. Maybe we should go ask him?"

That seemed to Harry to be the most reasonable thing to do. The Dementor didn't _really_ have anything to do with him, and by all rights should have been left to the professionals, but he couldn't help but feel curious. Besides, he hadn't got around to visiting Hagrid this year, and was starting to feel guilty about it.

* * *

It ended up being considerably more difficult to organize a simple visit to the groundskeeper's hut than he'd thought. Just a few hours after Hannah shared her discovery the Headmistress announced that due to a dispute with the Centaur population in the Forbidden Forest, students were no longer permitted to leave the school grounds except for Hogsmeade visits, and were completely banned from going within fifty meters of the forest edge.

Harry had shared a glance with Hannah over his breakfast at this- it seemed obvious that the real reason for the new rules had something to do with the missing Dementor. It seemed that outside of them, Ernie, Justin and Susan, who Hannah told everything, no-one else had worked out what they had.

It was a sort of thrill to be in on a secret that the staff clearly didn't want them knowing about, but Harry had been right when he'd said there wasn't really anything they could do about it. One of the remaining Dementors now patrolled the edge of the forest, seemingly just to keep the students in line. Harry hoped McGonagall didn't get any ideas about keeping them on permanently.

Hagrid still seemed to be staying in his hut, well outside of the reach of the students, so Harry sent a letter off to him the next morning. By lunch, he was still waiting for a reply.

"Hagrid's probably just taking his time writing and spoiling Hedwig rotten Harry, stop worrying so much," Susan said after Harry checked the owl entrance for the fifth time.

She was right, but with two Dementors still on patrol he couldn't help but feel nervous. It had seemed perfectly safe sending Hedwig out at the time- Harry wasn't even sure if Dementors had any interest in owl souls- but he was a perpetual worrier when it came to his friends and by extension his pets. No doubt a psychologist would put it down to his lack of friendships before coming to Hogwarts, and he always suspected his Sorting into Hufflepuff was due to something similar.

"Did you hear what Carrick had the fourth-years doing?" Ernie was saying excitedly to anyone who would listen. "Apparently he had a live Bandersnatch! I didn't even think they _existed_."

The Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor was proving to be quite interesting, seemingly paying lip service to idea of a curriculum while cheerfully doing more-or-less whatever he wanted in class.

Susan was only becoming more annoyed that of the five Hufflepuffs, she was the only one who had the other DADA teacher, Professor Prewett.

"Can't believe I'm the only one in Prewett's class. She's as bad as Binns sometimes," Susan grumbled. She was exaggerating somewhat. While Harry, Ernie and Hannah were all in Carrick's class, Justin and her were stuck in the other class, and had to deal with Prewett's inability to ever shift from her monotone. "Isn't that right Justin?"

The other boy completely failed to respond, seemingly gazing off into the distance with a dreamy expression on his face. Harry followed his gaze over to a group of Gryffindors chatting among themselves over lunch. Ernie interrupted him by throwing a bread crust in his face, and he let out a spluttered "What was that for?!"

"Absolutely pathetic Justin, even for you. Really, all a girl has to do is knock you a few dozen feet and you fall head over heels for her," Ernie said lazily, flicking some more pieces of uneaten sandwich at the muggleborn wizard to his annoyance. "Ever since Granger publicly emasculated him in the duelling club he's been drooling after her."

Ah, that explained it. Harry vaguely remembered Justin losing a duel to Hermione Granger, and that Justin had been somewhat distracted since. The others continued bantering about Justin's apparent masochistic streak, but Harry was quickly distracted by the flap of wings as Hedwig finally returned from Hagrid, a reply letter tied to its leg.

Barely containing his excitement, Harry untied the letter, throwing a piece of bacon to the owl before it gave a happy warble and perched directly on his head, waiting for another reply or another piece of bacon. He opened the letter, quickly reading the messy scrawl.

_Dear Harry_

_The Auror's don't want me sending any more letters off, but I managed to sneak this one through. I wouldn't go around talking about the missing Dementor right now- the ministry won't punish you for knowing or anything like that but you'll get all the rest of the students riled up. McGonagall has enough going on, please don't make her job harder._

_That said, I'll give you some advice: STAY AWAY FROM THE FOREST! Leave it up to the adults Harry, whatever took the dementor is bad news, bad enough that they won't even tell me what's going on really (or they just don't know themselves)._

_Apparently we're going to go talk to the Centaurs soon and see if they've seen anything amiss. Bloody aurors aren't letting me go see Aragog and Mosag, apparently Acromantulas aren't "reliable intelligence." I'd say they've got more "reliable intelligence" than the whole bloody ministry put together, if you catch my meaning!_

_Cheers,_

_Hagrid._

Well, that wasn't particularly informative. It seemed Hagrid didn't know much more about what was going on than they did.

Harry tucked the scroll away. In the crowded Great Hall anyone could overhear the Hufflepuffs discussing the note, and Harry wasn't about to draw the Aurors ire. Despite Hagrid's assurance, Harry still found the grim-faced enforcers more than a little scary, and the less attention they were paying him the better. He could discuss it with the rest of his friends in the Hufflepuff common room, under the protection of a privacy charm.

* * *

Remus Lupin was working steadily on becoming blackout drunk as quickly as possible. This was unusual for him. Inebriation reminded him too much of the early stages of "the change," when his mind and body became unsynchronized and the wolf started to take control.

Still, this was a special occasion.

Sirius Black was free, probably heading towards Hogwarts, and there was nothing he could do about it. Ericcsons retirement had given him a golden opportunity to join on as a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, but McGonagall had turned him down. All the reasons she gave were reasonable, but he wasn't about to let that get in the way of some perfectly good self-pitying.

He almost hoped Sirius would come for him before he went for Harry- maybe then he'd get some answers, some closure. And hell, thirteen years in Azkaban must have dulled his abilities somewhat, maybe Remus might actually be able to take him out. _That_ would be satisfying. If he focused through the alcoholic haze, he could just about hear the screams and the crunch of bones.

It wasn't healthy to wallow in anticipated violence, Dumbledore had taught him that, but then Dumbledore had abandoned him, so he wasn't about to start caring about the old man's platitudes now.

Pouring another shot of firewhiskey, the werewolf started as a piece of paper fell out of the bottle and into his glass.

Even half-drunk his senses perked up, looking around the sparse apartment. It was small, made smaller by the thick, warded cage in the centre of his living room. There were no clues that someone had been in it apart from him, and no real reason anyone would be sending him covert messages - he'd been a nobody since the war.

Which meant...

Remus grabbed the note- charmed to be temporarily waterproof- and unfolded it.

_Moony. North bridge, midnight, alone- Padfoot._

He snarled, arm shooting forward to hurl the piece of paper into his fireplace.

It seemed like his wish had come true, and he had no idea what to think about it. The fact that Sirius was requesting a meeting at all made him suspicious. If the madman wanted him dead, why not just wait in his apartment when he'd broken in to leave the message? If he was able to find him and get in here then he had a wand, and could have taken him out when he'd walked through the door.

And if he didn't want to fight him...

Then he was about to get a rude surprise. It was three hours until midnight, but if Sirius thought he would be getting a meeting on his terms he was dead wrong. Remus pocketed his wand, covertly leaving the building and grinning in spite everything- not a smile of happiness, but a leer of anticipation.

* * *

Two and three-quarters of an hour later Remus was waiting impatiently, having gone the long way around and approached from the other side. The bridge in question was out-of-the-way in a quiet area of downtown London, crossing a small rivulet, little more than a reed-filled creek. He was in the lower branches of a tree, watching both entrances carefully, covered in notice-me-not charms and wrapped in a transfigured cloak made to look like the foliage around him. Remus wasn't about to take any chances with Sirius Black.

Thoughts of bloodshed were making it difficult to concentrate, at least some of which could be attributed to the full moon being only two days away. That was the cycle- rage leading up to the transformation, and exhaustion after it.

It started raining, gently at first then into a downpour.

A muggle couple out on a romantic stroll hurried past him and he almost cursed them. Damn his nerves. Several people had wandered across with dogs, caught out in the rain, but none that looked anything like Sirius' Animagus form. Remus waited so long that he was beginning to think Sirius wasn't going to show up, when finally a black, low shape slinked past him, sniffing the ground. The dog, looking half-starved and panting gently, entered the light of a lamp post and even after thirteen years Remus recognized it.

 _Yes._ His ploy had paid off, as Sirius now had his back to where Remus would approach from.

Slowly, he descended the tree, desperately trying to balance his violent instincts with caution. The dog had sat down on the centre of the bridge, facing away from Remus. A single, whispered curse and the _bastard_ that had betrayed James and Lily would be reduced to a red smear on the pavement, a mystery for the public to gossip about then forget.

 _Kill him. KILL HIM._ **_KILL HIM._**

But no. Remus needed more than that and shook the thoughts away. He needed answers. The Grim could- _would-_ die later.

_"Stupefy."_

The red light flew at the dog, hit it dead centre and... turned it to stone. Even as the word _transfiguration_ flitted across his mind, Remus felt the cold tip of a wand poke against the back of his neck.

"Please, old friend," Sirius said, voice hoarse, "Don't do anything stupid. I just want to talk."

"I'm going to kill you. I'm going to _tear you into fucking pieces."_

He heard Sirius swallow behind him. Good, he was scared.

"I can already see you're angry, otherwise that trick wouldn't have worked, you don't need to convince me, p _lease_ Moony I swear-"

"Don't you call me that," Remus said, feeling something bestial rise up in him, struggling in vain to control it. "That was what _they_ called me, that was what our _friends_ called me. The friends you killed for a cause that's as _dead_ as they are."

A mote of desperation entered his old comrades voice as he spoke, a torrent of words pouring out of him, his carefully planned speech abandoned. "Please, Remus, you have to believe me. _I didn't betray James and Lily, it was-"_

Something _snapped_ inside Remus and he turned, letting the wolf overtake him. Ducking under Sirius' wand, he sent a vicious elbow into his stomach before turning around and leaping on the other man. Remus' own wand forgotten completely, he bore his former friend to the ground.

It was a myth that sufferers of Lycanthropy gained super-human abilities outside of the full moon, but he hardly needed it to overpower Sirius. Azkaban had robbed him of his strength, and he was helpless against the beating Remus delivered. Blow after blow rained on him, Sirius desperately trying to cover his head with his arms and talk through a mouth full of blood at the same time. Abandoning reason, he desperately rolled, putting his full weight into the movement and taking Remus by surprise, hurling them both down the steep hill and into the waters below.

The combatants were broken apart in the motion, their wands lost in the dark and rain. Sirius desperately tried to get out of the water, thoughts reduced to simple fight-or-flight, but Remus was faster. With a lurch the werewolf grabbed his midsection, bearing Sirius back to the ground even as he started clambering the hillside. He scrambled backwards, desperately kicking out and catching Remus beneath the chin. His once-friend seemed barely phased by it, grabbing Sirius' outstretched foot and using it to drag himself on top of him.

Finally, his full weight keeping Sirius pinned in place, Remus worked his hands around his neck and _squeezed_.

" _Why... Why did you do it,"_ Remus growled, forcing words through teeth that only wanted to _bite._

Sirius choked desperately, unable to speak around the iron grip, too panicked to change into his Animagus form, desperately trying and failing to force air through his windpipe. The werewolf was too heavy to shift off him, too enraged to stop and listen to reason. Black spots began to form around the edges of his vision, and Sirius suddenly became aware of how _stupid_ he had been. Moony was going to choke him to death and leave his body in the mud and it was _all his fault_.

Every regret in his life floated past his eyes, taunting him one by one. Wormtail's look of triumph as he blew up the street, Sirius himself laughing when the Aurors took him away, too stupefied by his own failure to defend himself, and the black walls of Azkaban swallowing him.

_I'm sorry James._

* * *

Remus could barely see his victim through a haze of red, but he didn't care. All that mattered was killing, was the feeling of Sirius' throat collapsing under his hands. Nothing else existed but the bastard that had killed his friends and left him alone in the world, that had betrayed everything he'd once stood for.

Some detached part of his mind was yelling at him to stop but he ignored it. That part of him was soft, weak, spineless. This wasn't work for a man of principles, it wasn't the work of a man at all. He couldn't afford a second of pity of regret for the bastard below him. Remus needed to be a demon, a wolf wearing human skin. An animal... _Oh._

_James put a hand on Remus' shoulder. He didn't know how his friend- his former friend, he supposed- had found him, but then James always had the knack of knowing where he had to be at any given time._

_"You don't have to say it in person, Potter. I know you all hate me, I'm sure most of the school does by now as well. I don't blame you."_

_"Remus," the other boy sat down heavily next to him, letting his legs hang over the edge of the tower along with Lupins, "Stop being an idiot. We're not going to stop being friends with you because you have an... illness."_

_Lupin almost laughed at that, but it came out as a choked sob._

_"It's not an_ illness, _it's... You saw what I almost did to Peter. I'm an_ animal _."_

_James grabbed his head, forcing the other boy to look into his eyes._

_"You're_ not _an animal, you're a_ person _, and I'm not abandoning you because of some bullshit like this. None of us are. We're the bloody_ Marauders. _You hear me Remus?_ You're not an animal. _"_

Sirius' felt a sliver of air escape into his lungs, and the world came back into focus for long enough to see the expression on Remus' face changing imperceptibly. There was still rage there, but it was clashing with sorrow and confusion and the despair of lost memories. His hands left Sirius' neck and he fell off him into the mud, eyes misting up.

 _"_ Why?" Remus murmured, unable to manage anything else. " _Why,_ Sirius. _"_

Sirius was silent for a long moment, gratefully sucking in mouthfuls of air before he took a piece of crumpled newspaper out of his pocket and handed it to Remus.

"It wasn't me, Moony. I wasn't the secret keeper. _It was Wormtail."_

Remus' looked at the paper, and his world fell apart.

* * *

"Why didn't they _tell_ me?"

Sirius gave him a pained look.

"You have to understand Moony, James and Lily... I don't think they had any hope left that we could win the war. At that point they just wanted Harry to be safe, and..."

He paused to take a long drink, letting the firewhiskey warm him up. He'd forgotten how nice that feeling was. After thirteen years he'd forgotten what a lot of nice feelings were like.

"They didn't think they could trust me," Remus finished, sitting down heavily.

"We knew there was a spy somewhere, we knew it was probably one of us four. Every other werewolf in Britain was joining Voldemort, he was offering them so much, and Wormtail... No-one thought he could betray us."

Remus nodded wearily at that. It made sense, he supposed. Pettigrew, small, timid, _kind_ Pettigrew, who never insulted anyone, who always went along with whatever hair-brained scheme James and Sirius came up with, and who had forgiven Remus even after he almost killed him. No-one had thought it was possible for him to be a traitor. That didn't make his friends mistrust hurt any less.

Sirius had phased out in the silence, staring off at something unseen. Remus felt a pang of sympathy and silently cast subtle cheering charm under the table, which seemed to at least jolt the other man out of his reverie.

"So, if Wormtail is still in the possession of the Weasley boy, then surely we have to get him," Remus said, excitement filling his voice, " McGonagall, will believe us if we have proof- Padfoot, he could prove your innocence."

Sirius was already shaking his head.

"It's not that simple. I was already heading to Hogwarts after I broke out of Azkaban, but things have changed. Someone else already took Wormtail."

In between sips of firewhiskey Sirius explained his meeting with Atticus and the 'mission' he'd been given- or at least as much as he _could_ say. The brass device had given him infuriatingly little to go on, and it seemed that despite Atticus' confidence that he would be killed if captured his benefactors wanted Sirius to know as little as possible.

_Department of Mysteries_

_Wing 7, room 21._

_December 14th._

And that was all it had said, making Sirius wonder why they'd even bothered with it. The old man could have just told him- maybe they thought he'd forget the numbers if it wasn't burned into his brain. Normally a device like that would be cursed to stop the recipient from telling anyone what was on, but Sirius seemed to be able to talk about it just fine.

By the time he'd finished, Remus was frowning heavily, worry painted across his face.

"How could they have known about Pettigrew? Hell, how could they have known where _you_ were an hour after you escaped? That's not even mentioning that they had your _wand_ somehow- who the hell are these guys?"

Sirius waved him off. "I've already thought about all that."

"And?"

"No idea."

Remus shot him a glare, almost annoyed, before a painful wave of nostalgia hit him. Playfully arguing with James and Sirius about nothing, Peter watching on and smiling, until they had got so far from their original topic that no-one could even remember what it was.

"But anyway," Sirius continued, shaking Remus from his reverie, "Atticus made it pretty clear he wouldn't be contacting me until I was finished, so if we want to find out anything about these people we're gonna have to go along with them, at least for a while."

_Oh, right. The robbery._

"I haven't even _got_ to that yet. How exactly do you propose we break into the bloody Department of Mysteries anyway, especially considering we don't actually know _what_ we're stealing? Getting into the Ministry is one thing, but the spooks keep their little kingdom locked up tighter than Gringotts."

The other wizard frowned for a few seconds before perking up.

"Do you remember how we made the Marauders Map? Might help with breaking in."

"We _didn't_ make the map, James and Pettigrew did most of that in the Room of Requirement while _we_ were in the hospital wing. I recall _someone_ letting a Boggart out into the Great Hall during breakfast," Remus said, smiling at the memory.

Sirius just looked confused until a wide grin broke through on his face and he laughed. "I'd _forgotten_ all about that. Dementors didn't leave me with much of my time at Hogwarts left, I guess. Just the bad bits, and I suppose there wasn't many of those."

Remus absorbed that silently, pouring them both of them another shot. _Thirteen years_ , and he'd survived it. Most people sentenced to life sentences ended up taking their own lives- he knew most of the former Death Eaters captured were long dead, though the Ministry didn't like talking publicly about it.

"Then we'd better try and remember as much as possible, Padfoot. Drink up, we can plot and plan tomorrow," he said, patting his oldest friend on the shoulder. He knew firewhiskey wouldn't be enough to heal wounds as deep as theirs, but it would at least be a start. The mysterious organisation, Department of Mysteries, and Pettigrew could wait until daylight.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Remus began seriously regretting his lack of hangover potions.

The two had been up until the early hours of the morning, reminiscing about their days at Hogwarts and drinking inhuman amounts of firewhiskey. Sirius was worse off than Remus, having made the mistake of falling asleep in his Animagus form, which- as he'd learned in school- inexplicably made a hangover worse. They'd never worked out why.

"I didn't send any owls off last night, did I?" Sirius managed to say once he transformed back and finished throwing up.

Remus grimaced. "A while back I got one of those cages that won't open if I'm inebriated."

"Rough couple of years?"

The werewolf just grunted and put the kettle on. They had stayed in his apartment that night, and he made a mental note to snoop around Sirius' safe house. He was no expert in runic spellwork, but any information he could glean about their new 'employers' might help.

Several cups of black coffee and a round of numbing charms later, the two were functional enough to begin planning again.

Sirius' first instinct was to go to Dumbledore, but Remus was already shaking his head before he had finished the thought.

"If I knew where he was I would," he said, putting on breakfast. "Two years ago, he resigned from all his positions- including Hogwarts- and dropped off the map. I've tried sending letters to him before and they've all come back unopened. As far as I can tell _no one_ knows where he is anymore. Might even be dead."

Sirius tried to process the idea of a wizarding world without Dumbledore and came up completely blank. The old man, however eccentric he might have been, had been there watching over Hogwarts for longer than Sirius had been alive.

"Surely there must be some old comrades from the first war that might help?" Sirius mused.

"I doubt it. It's been a long time, and I spent a lot of it outside of Europe or in the Muggle world. Besides, would you want to risk it? If anyone was caught conspiring with us it could get them thrown in Azkaban."

Sirius felt something inside him harden at that. He hadn't even considered the potential consequences for Remus when he'd involved him in this, and thinking about that damnable prison was enough to convince him at once not to put anyone else at risk.

"Don't bother apologizing," Remus said, waving him off before he could voice his thoughts, "Things weren't going great for me anyway- I'll risk Azkaban to have at least _one_ of my friends back. For that matter, I'd risk Azkaban just to get Pettigrew."

Sirius nodded. "It's just us then."

The two spent the next few hours throwing ideas back and forth, discussing the various defences of the Ministry, and what exactly it was they were stealing. Getting into the Ministry would be easy enough, Polyjuice potion and some sneaking about would suffice for that, but the Department of Mysteries was an entirely different story.

Neither had any idea about how the DoM organised their archives, so neither could begin to guess based on the information given- _Wing 7, Room 21-_ or why it had to be stolen specifically on December 14th. A little over four months gave them some wriggle room for fact-finding, but neither even knew where to start.

"Can't be a prophecy," Sirius said through a mouthful of toast and eggs, "or they'd have to be more specific. Actually, that means it has to be a one-of-a-kind thing, right? Something that needs a whole room to itself. Narrows it down a bit."

Remus looked lost in thought, staring off into the distance as Sirius kept talking.

"And it has to be something we could transport easily enough, or they would have told us to bring a trunk or something. So... some sort of powerful, unique, and small- or shrinkable? - artefact. What we _really_ need is an Unspeakable to just tell us. Don't suppose you know any?"

Only half listening, Remus replied in the negative then moved swiftly across his apartment. He started scanning his bookshelf- small, but packed full- and then rummaging around in a drawer when that failed. Sirius turned, noticing his friend's lack of attention.

"I swear, if you're just _now_ realizing you had some hangover potions in there this whole time, I'm going set this bloody place on fire."

"Shut up Padfoot," Remus replied absently, abandoning the drawer and entering his bedroom. "I know it's here somewhere... where did I put the bloody thing..."

"Maybe we could just kidnap an Unspeakable and steal some Veritaserum. I suppose they all know Occlumency. It'd suck to prove I was innocent and then get thrown back in Azkaban for using the _Imperius_ , but if-"

"Found it!" Remus came back, holding a thin, black book. "I'd just about forgot I had this. Dumbledore gave it to me during the war in case he died or had to go underground. It's a guide, of sorts, meant to get me into Ireland undetected."

Sirius blanched. "Ireland? There wasn't someone in the Order that _wasn't_ a werewolf that could go?"

"The Irish might not like Lycanthropes as a whole, but our 'friend' didn't mind, and he's not one to fear the local ministry. The book showed a pathway that led directly to his residence, so I never had to deal with Hunters."

Remus sat down next to him, opening the book. The pages were thicker than regular paper or parchment, and seemed to be completely coloured a glossy black, with no discernible markings. He took out his wand, thoughtfully tapping it against the cover, deep in thought. Sirius had seen books like this plenty of times before- most of the inner vault at his family's old manor were enchanted similarly. It was a simple matter of remembering the password.

"What was the _bloody_ password!"

Simple indeed. Sirius stood up and went to make himself another cup of tea- it was only a day away from the full moon after all, and he remembered well how temperamental werewolves could be during that time.

He wondered who exactly Remus was talking about. It was an open secret that the Order of the Phoenix had only been able to fend off Voldemort because of its many hidden, and often unscrupulous allies. Dumbledore had plenty of resources to make deals with, and there had been stories of him liaising with parties that would likely be his enemy in different times. The Dark Lord's wholesale massacring of the British Vampire population was widely attributed to his fearing they would side with the order.

It was a necessary evil, Sirius knew. The ministry may have _eventually_ led the charge against Voldemort's legions, but it was the Order that had kept him from conquering while the bureaucrats wrung their hands and tried to negotiate.

"Rose Fortunes," Remus said, tapping his wand against the cover of the book four times in a pattern. "Shit, I know it was some sort of flower. Lavender Fortunes?"

Sirius chuckled. "Who is this guy anyway? And why do you think he'll even help us, last I recall most of our more _shady_ friends retreated back into hiding after the war ended. He owe you or something?"

"Sort of. He owed _Dumbledore_ , which is the only reason I'm bothering with this. As for _who,_ I can't actually really say. We called him the Gilded King, some sort of mob boss, but I only ever met him through his underlings. Marigold Fortunes?"

Finally, the book gave a long shudder, and thick black smoke began rising out of it, hovering in a cloud above. When Remus opened it this time, the pages were covered in writing and strange symbols which seemed to be written in a thick, unpleasant-smelling oil. It seemed to be wet, as though only written moments ago, and Sirius realized it probably had been. Magical protection could be bypassed, but not if there wasn't anything actually written down until the password was given.

"Not exactly _subtle_ is it," Sirius said, hurrying over to get a good look. "Would hate to explain that one to the Muggles." Remus was flicking through the pages rapidly, trying not to touch the pages for fear of smudging them and occasionally muttering under his breath.

"Bollocks!" the werewolf snarled, letting his anger get the better of him for a moment. "The usual passages have all been discovered or are blocked this time of year. The only one that'll be open in time comes out _right_ in the middle of Dublin- about sixty miles from where we need to be."

"So, I guess that's out of the question then," Sirius said, shrugging. "I can think of easier ways of getting you killed then by travelling through Dublin. Are you even sure we need help doing this?"

"That's not-" Remus suddenly paused, going tense as though suddenly realizing something. Sirius raised an eyebrow and made a subtle hand signal, but the other man just looked away, out the window.

"You know what, it's a beautiful day, let's walk and talk. I know a place a few blocks away." His voice was calm, almost cheerful, which made Sirius more suspicious. They had looked for potential listening charms and bugs the night before, but had found nothing. Did Remus think they hadn't been thorough enough? More importantly, what was he going to say that he was so worried about someone listening in?

"Alright," Sirius said, keeping his tone light, "Let's take a walk."

Sirius and Remus moved through the streets of Muggle London quick enough to throw off any followers, but not quickly enough to attract suspicion. Remus led, taking a seemingly random route until he settled on a cafe, arriving twenty minutes after they'd left his apartment. The two of them entered quietly and sat down in a booth, Remus swiftly throwing up a subtle privacy charm around them.

The had disguised Sirius with a notice-me-not charm and some of Remus' old war-era gear- a fake moustache and eyebrows, glasses, a ginger wig and some stick-on freckles. In short, he looked almost exactly like a Weasley, to Remus' amusement.

There were plenty of more "magical" ways to disguise someone, but they didn't have any potions on-hand, and appearance changing spells wouldn't hold up to a simple _Finite Incantatum._ The chances of a wizard seeing them was slim, but neither wanted to take the risk.

They had been right to be cautious. On the far wall of the cafe there was a poster of Sirius, with an information hotline that no doubt led directly to the Ministry.

Sirius, who hadn't been in a Muggle Cafe since he and James had snuck out once during fifth year, was looking around fascinated.

"The one thing I could never get used to in the Muggle world is how _nothing_ floats."

Remus just chuckled. "They have airplanes, just hope you never have to get on one of those."

"I've seen them before, you'd have to Stun me," Sirius said, looking around the cafe carefully before casting a privacy charm of his own, "Why the subterfuge, we checked over your apartment."

"We were also fast asleep for more than long enough for someone to sneak in, and I _really_ didn't want your benefactors overhearing what I'm about to say," Remus replied, "I don't want to contact the Gilded King to help us break into the Department of Mysteries, I want him to help us _after._ "

Understanding dawned in Sirius' eyes. "You think Atticus- or whoever he works for- is going to screw us over?"

"Why _wouldn't_ they?" Remus said, "Pettigrew is easy for them to control, and we _know_ from past experience he's cowardly enough to succumb to threats. My bet is that as soon as we get out of there they nab us, take whatever we stole and wipe our memories- or just kill us."

Sirius sat back thoughtfully, mulling it over. He'd suspected a potential double-cross when he'd accepted the offer, but had ultimately dismissed it as a problem for another time.

"Atticus said something when we met at the safe-house. Something about how me proving my innocence would help them."

"That _could_ make sense," Remus murmured, "You were in Azkaban for thirteen years, and it's widely known you were put there without a formal trial. If the public finds out that you were wrongfully imprisoned, a lot of senior ministry employees would have their careers ended over it. There would have to be an overhaul of the whole justice system."

"Maybe these guys are trying to bring down the Ministry?"

"Then they're probably terrorists, and we don't want them getting whatever it is we're stealing," Remus concluded with an air of finality. He'd clearly made up his mind to go to Ireland, but his logic made sense.

Sirius grunted and fell silent, frustrated. There were still too many blanks, too little to go on. Maybe Atticus' organisation was anti-ministry, maybe it was a clever misdirection that he'd fallen for. They were smart enough for it, that was for sure, and he still couldn't work out how they'd known about Pettigrew, or how they'd found him.

In either case, Remus was right- if there was a chance their heist being successful would help lead to another wizarding war, then they couldn't risk it.

"What did this Irish guy do for us in the war?" Sirius eventually said, finally finding a question one of them might actually know the answer to.

"Bad business. He was our go-between man with the I.L.G, but according to Dumbledore he also has a hand in every bit of criminal activity that goes on in Ireland, wizarding _and_ muggle."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "The Irish League of Goblins? The hell were we doing with them?"

"Trying to get Gringotts to break neutrality and help us, same as Voldemort. Bloody bankers been secretly funding the I.L.G for years. We thought we could influence them by making a deal with the paddy's first, but it fell through."

Well, that was a surprise. Sirius had known about the Order's efforts to get the old Goblin families of Gringotts to help them, but involving the League must have been a secret known only to those directly involved.

The I.L.G was infamous for their ruthlessness and complete refusal to deal with Wizards. Huge swathes of Ireland were still under their direct control, and they were credited with dozens of acts of terrorism and murder against the Irish wizarding community. As far as Sirius knew they were the last holdout of Goblins that were still fighting for independence from wizardkind.

If it weren't for a complex web of legal treaties and political tensions, Britain would have stamped them out years ago like they had done with the British equivalent, but the Irish alone were too few in number to do it.

"He ended up giving us a load of underworld contacts as well, and supplied us with information about the Death Eaters," Remus continued. "I'm hoping he'll still be sympathetic to our cause. Plus, he probably assumes that Dumbledore is still in contact with the Order's old inner circle."

Sirius smiled, the beginnings of a plan starting to form. Getting through Dublin undetected wasn't going to be easy, they still didn't have a particularly solid plan on getting into the Department of Mysteries, but at least they had a _goal,_ a first step they could both agree on. Finally they had some stable footing to walk on, a path forward illuminated though murky

The Ministry, Atticus' organisation, the Irish- _Fuck em' all,_ Sirius thought.

Even at half-strength the Marauders could take them all on at once and win.

" _Stupefy!"_

 _"Protego!_ You're really quite good at this you know Harry."

" _Huria!"_

Luna cheerfully skipped out of the way of his spell, slinging back a tickling jinx by way of reply.

The two of them, as well as Justin and Susan- currently engrossed in some sort of trashy romance novel- were relaxing in an abandoned classroom. Justin had transfigured several of the chairs into some more comfortable couches.

"Why exactly did I agree to this again?" Harry said, smiling.

"Because," Justin said lazily from the sidelines, "You're a softy. _And_ because you've been spending so much time in the Library I'm quite sure Pince can legally adopt you."

A few days earlier, Harry had gone to Luna to tell her about Hagrid's note.

"Thank you for keeping me up to date," she had said, to his puzzlement. Luna had been the one to originally find out the Dementor was missing after all, of course he'd tell her what was going on.

When he'd said as much she just went quiet, staring at her book and not saying anything for a few long moments. Harry could just barely make out from across the table that she was reading a guide on enchanting items with hexes. What was she doing with that? Harry hadn't taken Luna for a prankster.

"Could you teach me some spells?" Luna said out of nowhere, "I'd like to be ready for duelling club next year, and I _never_ see any Snicklesnacks following you around so you must have time."

"What do- wait, what are Snicklesnacks?"

The second-year girl smiled cheerfully. "You haven't heard of them? They're six-legged lizards that like to stalk over-worked people and steal their paperwork. The ministry is constantly having to clear them out of their offices."

Harry, now thoroughly confused, tried to work out if he was being played or not. Had anyone else said that he'd laugh it off, but Luna seemed so innocently sincere about everything she said it was impossible to tell how serious she was. He certainly hadn't seen any lizards stealing his homework, but then _magic_ did exist so who could really say?

"Um, I could help you out," Harry said, trying desperately to get his train of thought back on track, "But I'm not _that_ good really. Aren't there any Claws' that can help you out?"

Luna paused, then quietly said, "They're all busy."

Harry felt a keen pang of kinship and grimaced at his own obliviousness. Dudley had made sure he'd spent most of his childhood without any real friends, and those few he _had_ had were always distant to him, the barriers of family difficult to overcome. It had been a lonely childhood. When he'd come to Hogwarts, the first thing he'd resolved to make sure his schooling here was as different as possible from his old life.

He also belatedly realized why she was learning how to hex objects. He never had much to steal in Surrey, but that never stopped the crueller children from taking what little he had.

It occurred to Harry for the first time that outside of Hannah- who he had only seen with Luna once- and himself, the girl might not have any friends at all.

He decided to help her.

Not that she needed much. It quickly became apparent that Luna was smart enough to figure out how to stick some weak hexes to a piece of bait clothing or paper. The two spent the rest of the afternoon working out what would be the funniest combinations.

They eventually agreed on combining a tickling jinx with a confusion charm. Neither could work out how to set it to a delay, and Harry resolved to ask Professor Flitwick the next time he saw him.

Neither of them outright stated _why_ Luna was learning it, but they didn't need to.

After that, the girl had started spending more with the Hufflepuffs, and eventually Harry had given into her pestering and agreed to teach her about duelling.

"If I didn't spend so much time in the library Justin," Harry belatedly replied, letting Luna take the offensive, "I wouldn't be able to whip you so easily."

Justin scoffed. "I'd like to see _you_ do transfiguration as good as this. I'm a _prodigy_ I am."

Harry had to give him that. The other boy was far and away the best transfiguration student in their group, and maybe in their year. Unfortunately, he hadn't worked out the complicated art of duelling with transfiguration, leaving him stranded in that arena.

"Don't forget about potions Harry," Susan chimed in, "You barely passed that one last year."

Harry parried a well-aimed stinging jinx and sent one of his own at Susan, much to Luna's amusement. "That's just because Snape hated me, I'm fine with Bubble."

"Think that's his real name?"

"Our Herbology teachers name is _Sprout,_ what do you think."

Justin chuckled. "Magic is weird. Speaking of _weird_ , have you talked to Hagrid yet?

"Haven't had a chance, he doesn't leave his cabin much and things have been so bloody hectic that- _Merlin_ Luna, who taught you the Crucifixion curse?"

The Hufflepuffs had discussed Hagrid's note, but ultimately it hadn't told them much more than they already knew- the story about disgruntled Centaurs was bollocks, and there was something very dangerous in the forest. They'd mostly ended up talking in circles and wildly speculating so much that Ernie had ended the conversation convinced the Dementor had been bitten by a werewolf.

Harry had considered Hagrid's comments carefully and decided that he was probably right about not antagonizing the Aurors. The whole thing was well beyond his paygrade, and he'd successfully put it out of his mind. Between homework, trying to work out how to beat Draco in duelling club, and the upcoming Quidditch match, he had enough to think about.

The fourth week of school rolled around, then the fifth, and despite the restrictions Quidditch went ahead as normal. McGonagall was wise enough to predict the probable riots that would occur if they cancelled the game.

If he had to be honest, Harry was almost been hoping it would be delayed. There had been sparse time to practice in the weeks before, and as a result he was feeling decidedly rusty.

Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff seeker, was predictably calm and cheerful. While everyone else was wracked with nerves, he joked around and gave out words of encouragement to anyone who looked like they needed them. Easy for him- he could actually ride a broom at home during the holidays. Harry's only practice had been his brief stay at the MacMillans. While the pick-up games he'd played with Ernie and Susan had been fun, they didn't do much to prepare him for an actual game.

With any luck he wouldn't actually have to mount a broom today.

"You alright Harry? Looking a bit peaky." Cedric said, grinning and sitting next to him.

"I'm fine, but do me and favour and don't get knocked out will you? Bloody Weasleys have it out for me."

Cedric winced. In the final game of last year Harry had ended up playing Chaser after Jonathon Stone fell off his broom and broke his leg. Roughly five minutes after lifting off the ground, Harry took a Bludger straight to the chest. Three shattered ribs later, he still had some decidedly uncharitable feelings for the Weasley twins.

"More likely it'll be one of the chasers again," The older boy said, "but I'll do my best to end it quick yeah?"

Harry nodded. While Bludgers would often be directed at the Seeker, they had less to think about than the Chasers, and were trained to be manoeuvrable. Harry had only even started being a reserve Chaser halfway through last year, after both the team's reserves quit in the same week. He'd proved good enough in the role that Cedric cheerfully made him a reserve for both roles, promising to put him on full time if there was a proper vacancy.

So far, that hadn't happened, but players being taken off was so common he frequently got to play anyway.

Their conversation was interrupted by the first whistle, signalling the player's entrances. Cedric gave him a pat on the back, and the team exited.

Harry shared a grin with his fellow reserves, and they made their way to the lookout box to watch.

The second whistle blew and the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor players lined up against each other, engaging in some friendly trash talking. The assorted players fell silent as Madam Hooch laid out the balls and gave them the ceremonial "follow the rules and don't be cheating twats" speech. It was only really warranted in the Gryffindor-Slytherin matches (where it would be ignored anyway), but it wouldn't be a proper game without a threat of expulsion before the game started.

Before long the third whistle blew, and both teams took to the sky. Harry grinned at the spectacle, realizing how much he had missed the sport, even if he was relegated to only watching for now.

That grin was quickly replaced with a scowl as the Gryffindor team scored almost immediately.

"And Johnson takes an easy first goal for twenty points!" Lee Jordan, the announcer for this game, bellowed through a _soronus_ charm _._

Harry winced at the quick lead gained by Gryffindor. Wilson should have blocked it easily, but he'd expected a fake-out and jumped to the side, letting it go through uncontested.

The first minute of the game set the tone for the next twenty.

While Hufflepuff's chasers held their own enough to prevent the other team getting _too_ far ahead, it was clear that they were outmatched. Harry watched carefully, taking quick notes after each interaction- one of the roles the reserves were _meant_ to be doing was to give critique to his teammates after the game, though most of the time they got caught up in the excitement and forgot.

The Weasley twins were completely dominating, using the Bludgers to constantly break up any formation the Puffs' tried to make. While their own beaters weren't playing _badly,_ they were being too defensive, trying to guard Cedric- who could look after himself- and their Keeper, who was barely being targeted.

"Possession!", Lee roared as the Quaffle leapt through the air of its own accord, into the arms of Wilson, "That's the second time Spinnet's been caught out this game!"

The red-and-gold clad stands groaned as a Hufflepuff chaser, Roberta Preece, scored.

Harry watched curiously as Cedric swooped close to one of their Beaters, excitedly yelling something at them. Moments later it seemed whatever he'd said had an effect and they completely changed strategy, abandoning their defensive positions and moving aggressively onto the Gryffindor keeper. It paid off quickly as Preece scored again, bringing the game to a mere twenty-point difference in the Gryffindor's favour.

"We're not used to the Lions Chasers being challenged, but it seems the Badgers change of strategy is working! If this keeps up for too long- BARRINGTON IS MOVING, HE'S SEEN THE SNITCH!"

Harry swore and moved his attention to the Gryffindor Seeker, who turned hard and started speeding straight down. Cedric followed close behind, both Seekers reaching out while trying to maintain their brooms stability.

"It's a Wrongski Dive folks, but is this a feint or the real thing?"

It was real- Harry saw the tiniest glint of gold a mere meter ahead of Barrington. The two were hurtling at the ground at impressive speeds, only taking a few moments to start nearing the ground. The stands went quiet few seconds as both the seekers nerves were tested in an improvised game of chicken. Surely they couldn't both keep up the dive?

Barrington broke first, wrenching his broom up and then turning in a wide circle, trying to intercept the snitch when it too pulled out of the dive. Cedric kept it up for another second until he was only meters away from the ground, and at the last minute twisted desperately, arm still reaching out, still on the snitch's trail. It must have been staying barely out of reach, and the crowd starting roaring again as the tension broke and Cedric seemed seconds away from taking the game for Hufflepuff.

Then, disaster.

The seekers leg slipped out of position and brushed against the ground beneath him. It wasn't much, but at the tremendous speed he had been going the slight nudge sent the front of his broom _down,_ hitting the ground and sending Cedric hurtling over the front.

"BLOODY HELL!", Lee announced, letting his decorum fail at the spectacle, "Diggory has been sent spinning across the pitch, and it doesn't look like he's getting back up any time soon!"

Harry swore. From here he could see the spike of bone jutting through the Seekers' right elbow. Another whistle blew, and the game was briefly paused as Cedric was stunned and taken off the field on a stretcher. _Shit._

"Guess you're up mate," one of the other reserves said, patting him on the shoulder.

Harry ran down to the pitch, stretching on the way, a complex mix of excitement and terror churning around in his stomach. He _really_ wished it was legal to chuck on a quick Relaxation Charm. _If I throw up on the pitch I'll never live it down._

Before long he was running onto the pitch, barely taking in the journey, to the cheers of the Hufflepuff side. He desperately tried not to show off how sick he felt as he gripped his broom.

Harry took a running start and leapt onto his broomstick. The _Nimbus 2000_ felt alive in his hands, like it had been locked up for too long and was eager to be racing again. It vibrated excitedly underneath him, straining to be let off the leash and go all-out.

Like always, the anxious anticipation he felt melted away as soon as Harry was in the air, until he could hardly remember why he'd been worried at all.

The freedom of flight was like nothing else- there was simply no equivalent to a broomstick, no comparison that could be made against the feeling of soaring through the air with nothing but a glorified stick keeping you up. Harry took both hands off the _Nimbus_ for his first lap of the pitch, controlling it with just his legs and thoughts, grinning stupidly.

"And it looks like Harry potter had taken to the field to replace Diggory," Lee yelled, "Last time this happened he ended up in the hospital wing- hopefully he fares better this time around!"

 _Technically I was playing Chaser last time,_ Harry said inwardly, shooting a glare at the announcers' booth. Knowing the Snitch would have long escaped in the chaos, he began doing wide sweeps of the pitch, keeping an eye on Barrington while trying to spot the tell-tale glint of gold.

"Bell gets an easy ten points for the Lions! Cedric getting taken out must have really shaken the Badgers, what are they doing?"

Jordan was right- Harry could see the Hufflepuff's chasers were letting the other team walk all over them. They'd reverted back to playing defensively, but the combination of the Gryffindor chasers and the Weasley twins were shredding through their lines. Wilson in particular looked like he was going to throw up. Clearly some of their team had weak stomachs, and the bloody sight of Cedric's arm practically snapping in too. Harry had only seen it from a distance, and he didn't envy his fellow Hufflepuffs.

Slowly, Gryffindors' lead crept up, until it seemed inevitable they would get the crucial fifty-point lead that would stop even the snitch being caught from winning Hufflepuff the game. Harry didn't have much time. _And I was enjoying myself, too._

"Blatant foul by Fred, or maybe George," Lee hollered, "I knew I shouldn't of let them at my Firewhiskey stash last might!"

There was a brief pause in the announcing as Mcgonnagall presumably grabbed him by the ear and gave the errant fourth year a stern talking to.

"Hm, and Spinnet scores again, putting the Lions forty points ahead," he continued a moment later, sounding somewhat more subdued.

Only one more goal and Harry's window of opportunity would be closed unless the Hufflepuff chasers could recover their momentum and bring the scores back together.

Suddenly, something caught his eye. A flash of gold, almost imperceptible, hovering slightly behind one of the Gryffindor players. He started to kick the _Nimbus 2000_ underneath him into action, before belatedly realizing the snitch was hovering behind _Barrington_ \- the Gryffindor seeker.

Swallowing hard, and not wanting to give away that the other boy could turn around and win the game in a few seconds, Harry accelerated hard. He aimed at a point far ahead of Barrington. The other seeker took the bait, twisting hard to cut him off while trying to find the snitch himself to no avail.

In the centre of the pitch, Spinnet caught the Quaffle out of a long throw over the heads of the distracted Hufflepuff chasers and started speeding towards the goals.

"It looks like we have another chase on our hands, both seekers going for the Snitch, but who will get there first?"

 _Just a few more seconds... NOW!_ Harry jerked hard to the right, struggling to keep the broom under control. The whiplash of the sudden movement nearly wrenched his hands from the broom, but he barely managed to keep his grip.

_Spinnet streaked towards the goals, lining up a clear shot._

Barrington realized that he'd been fooled, desperately trying to turn his broom completely around without throwing himself off, but it was too late. The snitch also realized it had been found too late. By the time it started fluttering away from Harry, it was already without striking distance.

He reached out-

_-Spinnet hurled the Quaffle-_

-fingertips brushing against the wing-

_-feinting to the left, but actually aiming for the centre hoop-_

-it turned wildly but he turned with it, swinging wildly-

_-perfectly aimed, blurring past Wilson and through the goals-_

Harry's hand closed around the Snitch, and he pulled up hard at the last second to avoid hitting the spectator stands. He turned to the scoreboard, breathless and red, just in time to see the Quaffle falling and Alicia Spinnet grinning. _Had he been too late?_

The scores didn't move for a second, as though even the enchantment wasn't entirely sure which team had scored first. The stands and Jordan went quiet.

Slowly, the Hufflepuff score shuddered and increased by fifty points.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I'm being _that_ author that changes the rules of Quidditch. It's such a cliche that I wasn't going to do it originally, but eventually decided that it was small enough of a change that it wasn't a big deal.**

**Oh well.**


	5. Chapter 5

"How do they _stand_ it? Locking themselves in a metal box powered by _explosions_ , it seems like suicide."

Remus shot his friend an amused glance. He'd explained the basics of Muggle automobiles on the walk back to his apartment to Sirius bemusement, astonishment, and eventual horror.

"It's perfectly safe as long as they're maintained properly and you know how to drive them," Remus replied, stopping at a crossing. "Unless you're in a movie, of course."

"Movie?"

The pair navigated through the dense streets of London as Remus explained the merits of 80's action films. They'd stayed in the Cafe for longer than intended, and it was now nearing dusk, a vicious Autumn chill having kicked in. The clothes Remus had transfigured for them were barely effective, and their warming charms- notoriously unreliable spells, it was a wonder no-one had invented better ones- wore off about a minute after entering the bitterly cold wind.

"Go through here," Remus said, pointing at an alleyway, "Shortcut, and we get out of this bloody wind."

Sirius nodded, and they stepped into a particularly long and dour passage between a theatre and department store. Overflowing dumpsters lined the walls, completing the grey-and-black colour palette. It was the sort of place that would normally be haunted by unsavoury looking individuals in coats, but was seemingly empty now.

It was therefore a complete surprise to Sirius when his friend suddenly launched a stunner into a nearby dumpster. The scarlet spell impacted against something unseen, a crouching figure perfectly camouflaged against the wall of the bin, their presence revealed with a rippling effect. The Disillusionment charm faded with a muttered counter-spell, and a crimson-robed figure was revealed, slumped unconscious against the wall. An Auror, fresh-faced and clearly not long out of the academy.

Remus hit him with a body-bind for good measure while Sirius watched the entranced to the Alley warily.

"Rookie," the werewolf murmured, covering the body with another Dissolution Charm. "I saw him move as soon as we got into the Alley."

"Do you think they saw us leave?"

Remus frowned. How quick had they been in sending men to watch his apartment?

"It's the ministry, they probably kept tabs on _all_ the old Order members. I wouldn't be surprised if there's a _dozen_ of them waiting inside right now."

Before they could continue, a shout interrupted their conversation. Two more figures had appeared at the end of the alley, wands brandished.

" _Stupefy!"_

Before Sirius even had time to move, Remus' wand flicked up to summon a hasty shield. The Auror's stunner was just barely stopped, the shield shattering and causing a painful spark to run up Remus' arm from the magical backlash. Thankfully, their other opponents aim was off, her body-bind flying over both their heads.

 _At least they don't have cast-to-kill orders on_ me _yet,_ Remus thought.

Before either had the chance to continue the offensive, Sirius sent a Banisher at the closest dumpster, hurling it into their path. A shower of sparks cascading out as it scraped against the brick walls on either side of the alley. He heard shouts of alarm before his improvised projectile abruptly stopped, held a few inches above the air by an invisible force, before being launched violently back towards them.

Sirius responded with another banisher, sustaining it this time, and for a few moments the dumpster was held aloft between the two adversaries, rending and screeching as the forces slowly crushed it between them. Something had to give, and Sirius knew it would be him- after just a few second his arms were already shaking at the exertion, black spots appearing at the edge of his vision.

Before he collapsed completely, Remus grabbed his arm, turning on the spot as he did so, and with a sharp _crack_ the two disappeared. They re-appeared a moment later in a familiar-looking bathroom- thankfully empty.

"The C-cafe again?" Sirius gasped, bent double and trying to recover his breath.

Remus nodded. "First place I thought of, but I don't think we can bloody _sleep_ here. Can you get us to the safe-house?"

Sirius nodded and steadied himself. Once he'd regained some composure they side-along apparated again, directly into the main room of the safe-house. Sirius was glad for the lack of anti-apparition wards on the apartment- he hadn't bothered to memorize a private place nearby to jump to if needed, and dealing with a splinch was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

Collapsing onto the couch, Sirius fought the urge to pass out. He had no intention of showing off just _how_ much that simple bit of magic had taken out of him. The degradation of his abilities was becoming more and more clear to Sirius, and he refused to allow Remus to see how fragile he'd become. The werewolf would almost certainly get himself killed trying to protect him if he found out, and Sirius wouldn't- _couldn't-_ allow that to happen.

Azkaban had weakened him, but he would be damned if he let it take away whatever dregs of pride he had left or lead to the death of his last remaining friend.

Thankfully, it seemed Remus wasn't paying him much attention, instead pacing the length of the room in pent-up frustration.

"Stupid, stupid _stupid!_ " He snarled, barely restraining himself from taking out his anger on the surrounding furniture. "Of _course_ they were watching my apartment. This is the _ministry."_

"We have this place to stay in until the passage to Ireland opens up," Sirius said, trying in vain to calm him down without actually getting too close.

Remus sat down heavily, and then a second later jumped back up, stalking into the kitchen and back out again. "They _probably_ won't find us here, but it means I'm not going to be doing any scouting missions in the Ministry without Polyjuice. More importantly, almost all my money was in that apartment as well."

That was a bigger problem. It was well known that wizarding money was impossible to duplicate or forge. _Less_ well-known was that since 1902 all Muggle money was printed with runic chains that had a similar effect. Of course, the two would still be perfectly capable of stealing what they needed from the Muggle world, but committing _actual_ criminal activity was something both wanted to avoid where necessary. It seemed like crossing some sort of line.

Remus suddenly shuddered, eyes shutting tight in pain for a few seconds before breathing out a heavy groan. "We have a more immediate problem. The next full moon is tomorrow night, and this place doesn't have a cage to lock me up in."

Well there, at least, was something Sirius could find a solution too.

"Bugger the cage Moony, I've a better idea."

* * *

As dusk neared on the next day, Sirius and Remus appeared on the outskirts of Hogsmeade with a sharp _crack._

It had taken the better part of a day to convince Remus to spend the full moon outside of a trunk. Well over a decade had passed since he'd transformed alongside the Marauders and ran through the forests surrounding Hogsmeade, and the man was clearly terrified that he would end up killing someone. Sirius had cajoled and begged him until he eventually agreed out of a resigned weariness- and only if they went deep into the forest away from the town.

The point they'd chosen was just out of vision from the town below, hidden in an untamed grove of pear trees and just behind a steep hill marking the edge of Hogsmeade. Both remembered the area well. A circular clearing covered in bright green, faintly luminescent moss, the entire place had an ethereal, otherworldly feel to it, like a dream- though perhaps nostalgia was clouding Sirius' vision.

The very first time the Marauders had left the Shrieking Shack on a full moon night, they had slept in this clearing.

"I remember waking up here at dawn," Lupin said, kneeling down to run a hand along the ground. "It was the first time I could really remember what happened while I was transformed. We came so _close_ to the town, I could have broken away from the rest of you so easily. I _should_ have done, if everything we know about werewolves is true."

Sirius nodded, grabbing a pear off a nearby tree and testing it for ripeness. "Never could explain that. The three of us learned how to become Animagi because Werewolves only attack people, but it shouldn't have stopped you going loco' this close to town."

"Yet, somehow I didn't. You three stopped me, and none of us knew _how_."

"I don't think any of us really _wanted_ to know how. It worked, right? No need to mess up what worked."

Remus smiled as he reminisced about simpler times. "And every month I told you not to let me out, but I... I always secretly hoped you would."

"We knew. Wouldn't have done it if we didn't know."

The men fell into a comfortable silence as the sun slowly set, words unnecessary as they relived their shared memories.

Remus happily noted that he felt none of the stomach-churning sickness that normally heralded the transformation, nor the deep-set ache of his bones. He felt unusually calm, peaceful even. Was this the influence of Sirius, the air of nostalgia that surrounded them, or simply the result of freedom away from his usual cage? It had been so long since he'd last transformed like this that he'd forgotten what it felt like.

He realized, in a detached, dreamlike way, that they should have been deeper into the forest by now. Hadn't he only agreed to come here if they did that? And yet, despite how wracked with anxiety Remus had been before apparating, his worries completely evaporated in the clearing.

The moon rose.

Despite a newfound optimism, the transformation was still painful. It would always be agonizing to feel his bones snap and reform, skin stretch and warp around a new structure, regardless of mindset. There was no true equal in the wizarding world to a werewolf's transformation. Self-transfiguration or Polyjuice potion were completely different- _uncomfortable, yes_ but not outright painful.

But he could handle the physical effects- Remus had felt the touch of the C _ruciatus_ curse more than once, he could handle pain. It was the mental trauma that was far more uncomfortable. Remus had never got used to the sensation of feeling his own mind become a snarling animal, while being completely helpless to stop it.

When Remus was first learning about his condition, a book had described the 'Wolf' and 'Man' as two separate beings forced through unholy magic to share a body, but that was wrong. He _wished_ he could blame it on a malign spirit possessing him once a month, but in truth the 'Wolf' _was_ Remus- Remus with everything but rage and instinct stripped away, but Remus nonetheless.

That never changed, even when he ran alongside the Marauders and could remember the nights, or when he took wolfsbane potion. What did change- and what he could feel happening to him now- was far more complex. Remus could still feel his own mind warping, but into something else, a balance where the animalistic fire was dampened by a measure of civilization, just enough to keep the worst parts of him in line. Not human, not

With a sharp crack his entire spinal column shattered and reformed, nerve endings re-wiring into new patterns, and the transformation was complete. The creature that was once Remus shook itself and looked at the world with new eyes.

* * *

Sirius looked at the werewolf warily. In his _Animagus_ form he saw the world differently, but the horror of the transformation rang true regardless of how his senses functioned. A hideously loud _snap_ rang throughout the clearing as the final changes to Remus' body were completed, and he sat, panting. Slowly, his eyes opened.

For a long minute the two simply stared at each other, neither moving. Sirius' hackles rose and he stepped forward, letting a low growl of warning ripple through his throat. The werewolf remained completely still, not even acknowledging him, as though immobilized. An unseen battle was being fought behind his eyes, a war that would decide the qualities of Remus' mind. Sirius had seen this before, the first few times they'd joined him in the transformation. _Has it been too long? Have we made a mistake?_

Finally, after what felt like hours of anticipation, Remus stood, rearing back on his hind legs, and let out a monstrous howl that pierced through the grove, echoing through the town below and the trees around them. Sirius joined him a moment later, the two cries elevating each other to louder and greater heights until Sirius was sure it would wake up the students of Hogwarts.

Lupin fell forward, landing heavily on his front legs, and with one final cry sprang off into the forest. Sirius was close behind him, barking joyfully.

* * *

The sun rose slowly on the next day as the two returned to the safe-house, silent, sharing nothing but the memory of the night. Both were indulging in nostalgic bliss, remembering the adventures they had shared with James and Peter many years ago.

Unfortunately, once they were in the safety of Sirius' hideout, reality had to be confronted.

The tunnel to Ireland, apparently located in Liverpool, would open in four days- four days without money or supplies, at least while the Aurors continued to watch Remus' apartment. That unfortunately meant thievery was their only option- easy for a wizard in the Muggle world, but something neither were thrilled about having to resort to. They decided after much debate to write down everything they took and pay it back later.

Much more worryingly was the lack of wizarding supplies they would have. Getting into Diagon Alley would be possible, but pointless without Galleons to spend. Sirius' account was long since seized, and Remus' consisted of an enlarged trunk he kept under his bed. That meant no healing potions or, most annoyingly, brooms. Both would make their journey significantly safer and quicker.

"Why can't we just Floo into this guy's house," grumbled Sirius, biting into a stolen jam doughnut and feeling vaguely guilty about it. Remus didn't justify his whinging with a reply- both men knew it was damn near impossible to get into Ireland without the Ministry knowing about it- instead opting to check the pathfinding book for the eighth time that day. Sirius noticed.

"Moony, we don't have to do this," he said softly. "I'm pretty sure if the Irish have a choice between capturing the most wanted criminal in Britain or a werewolf, they'll choose the latter. You'd be putting yourself in a lot of danger for me."

Remus shook his head. "The more I think about it the more I'm sure we _do_ have to. The two of us _might_ be able to do this alone, but then we're at the mercy of whoever these guys are. And then _even if_ they keep their word, we'd be handing over something very dangerous to probable terrorists."

With that decided, all that was left was to plan.

Four days of tense anticipation followed as the two talked themselves around in circles, both men just about going mad. While it _was_ relativelysafe to go out into Muggle London under disguise, neither was going to take unnecessary risks while there for the sake of relieving their boredom. To Sirius' consternation, Remus didn't count strong drink as 'essential supplies', only increasing their boredom.

Finally, Saturday arrived, and they could leave. While apparating directly from Britain to Liverpool was beyond their abilities, Remus knew enough secluded spots along the way that they could get there without having to drive a Muggle automobile. After an hour of travel- Apparating such long distances required frequent rests to avoid splinching- the two arrived in yet another dingy alley. Despite the heavy disguise both were wearing, Sirius was wary. He remembered how their last adventure through a back-alley went.

Thankfully, the two exited without issue, coming out into a large, cobblestone square filled with wizarding shops. It felt rather like the alley they'd just left. There seemed to be a permanent layer of black grime on every surface, along with a haze of dark smoke that hung low to the ground, obscuring the feet of those shopping.

Liverpool had earned something of a seedy reputation among wizards- Sirius had heard it described as 'an entire city of Knockturn Alleys,' and was seeing no evidence to the contrary. While it seemed there were some regular witches and wizards going about their business in the square, there were also plenty of unsavoury individuals that would have looked starkly out of place in Diagon Alley.

Still, they weren't here for the scenery, and without money had no reason to stick around in the square. The two men moved swiftly onwards, ignoring offers shouted from the several vendors. They soon exited into Muggle Liverpool through a seemingly solid brick wall, Sirius noting that it seemed no better off than the wizarding side.

Remus led the way, having apparently memorized most of the route, and quickly navigated the streets. Sirius wished he could put on a bubble-head charm- despite being considerably less crowded than London, the place stank of smoke and sweat.

"Could have picked a nicer spot to build this bloody tunnel," He muttered darkly. His protests went ignored by Remus, focused on not getting lost.

Finally after fifteen minutes of walking they reached their destination- a squat, run down pub on a street corner, looking about as welcoming as a Dragon enclosure, only a lot smaller. Sirius was reminded of the Leaky Cauldron- however, unlike that pub this place wasn't any nicer on the inside. _How difficult is it to install some decent lighting?_

Remus squeezed past several burly men in grime-covered work clothes and up to the barman. A weathered-looking and heavyset bloke, busy moving dust from one side of a glass to the other, he spared the wizards a second's glance before returning to his 'cleaning.'

"We're looking to buy some halloumi, with extra spice," Remus said quietly.

"We dun' serve that Muzzie' shit ere'. Bugger off."

Remus face went completely blank for a second before he hurriedly pulled out a crumpled piece of paper out of a pocket, scanning it before shoving it back.

"With some garlic, pepper, sweet-corn and mandarin dip on the side," he said hurriedly, shooting an apologetic look across the bar.

The barman grunted and then gestured to the door behind the bar labelled "Kitchen." As he did, his other hand slipped beneath the bar and turned an unseen nob. The door seemed to flicker out of existence for a split-second before returning.

"Better off askin' the chef then."

With a nod of thanks, Remus walked over to the door and hurriedly moved through it, Sirius following just behind. Unsurprisingly, it didn't lead to a kitchen. Instead, a long stone corridor greeted them, looking older than anything else in the city. At the end was another door, made of heavy black iron. Sirius had the feeling that all the wizards in Liverpool wouldn't be able to break it down if they had years to do it.

" _Malicious Melons,"_ Remus murmured, tapping the door four times with his wand.

Impossible slowly, the passage opened, scraping against the stone floor the entire way, creating a horrifically loud grinding sound that echoed through the tunnel. _Wonderful._

The tunnel beyond was pitch-black. Sirius tried a quick _Lumos_ , then a more obscure lighting charm when it failed, both to no avail. It seemed that any light was completely swallowed by the cloying darkness. Remus stepped resolutely into the expanse and gestured for Sirius to follow. The effect was strange- despite the complete blackness, Sirius could still see his friend completely fine.

"The Pathfinder said it would be like this. Extra layer of security."

Before entering, Sirius quickly transformed into his Animagus form, as they'd agreed earlier. While the book might have guided them here, neither could be completely sure about what lay on the other side- having a dog's nose might come in handy, especially since apparently neither of them would be able to see.

Sirius wondered what exactly what enchantment could create this sort of effect; endarkening charms were common enough, but he knew of none that would so completely reject a lighting charm- especially the second one he'd used.

Whatever it was had more of an effect than just obfuscation- as soon as he stood into the tunnel a deep, bone-deep cold enveloped him. He was sharply reminded of the chill of a Dementor, and stilled as memories of Azkaban loomed large around him, letting out an involuntary whine. Remus noticed his pause and quickly realized what was wrong.

"You okay Padfoot?" He said, trying to keep his tone light.

Sirius grunted, forcibly banishing the depression that had briefly filled him. The cold and dark might be reminiscent of his former prison, but only on a shallow, surface level. He could still remember the feel of sunlight on his skin, the taste of fresh pear, recall the simple warmth of a friends embrace- all things stripped away in the cells of Azkaban. It was nothing more than his mind tricking him, associating one place with another.

He barked once and then bounded ahead.

Remus smiled and the two of them forged ahead through the dimness. After a few seconds the entrance behind them disappeared, and it became impossible to work out how far they had travelled, only the walls of the tunnel guiding them. Soon the walls changed from concrete into rock, then a hard dirt, and finally a loamy, wet sand that seemed like it should surely collapse on top of them. They were, Sirius realized, somewhere underneath the Irish sea.

Finally, after at least an hour of walking, the tunnel opened up into an enormous cave.

It was illuminated, but Sirius couldn't work out from where. It looked like the air around them was somehow producing a dim blue-tinted light all by itself, creating an uncanny effect that gave Sirius a headache. The light didn't extend far enough to reach the walls or ceiling of the cavern, but it did display a massive lake below them, about a hundred feet away, stretching into a murky distance.

A gravelly beach covered the coasts of the lake, sloping steeply into the water. Sirius had a nagging feeling that stepping onto that beach, one would very quickly find themselves sliding irreversibly down into the water. He thought for a moment he saw a dark shadow slip above the surface for a split-second before disappearing- or was that just a trick of the light? Though his Animagus forms sense of smell was far superior to any humans, he could only pick up the cloying scent of salt and rotting seaweed.

The final feature of the cavern was a squat, seemingly barely held-together building at the top of the beach. Next to it was an equally dilapidated platform with a zigzagging, scraggly set of stairs leading down to the water.

As the two walked towards the structure, Sirius could dimly see several squat figures exiting it and lining up at the bottom of the platform. Sirius had a sinking feeling as he recognized the silhouettes.

Goblins.

As they got close enough to make out details, his suspicion was confirmed. The dozen-or-so creatures amassed before them looked nothing like the goblins of Gringotts. They were filthy, covered in boils and scabs. Each one seemed to have a mouth full of either rotting teeth, or none at all. Grimy rags were the only clothing in sight, save one that was wearing nothing but an iron codpiece.

Two had crossbows pointed at the intruders- although only one was actually loaded, Sirius noted with amusement- while the rest were holding rusted and dilapidated blades, most of which seemed to be made of flimsy tin or pig-iron.

Sirius had never seen such a disgusting and all-together pathetic group of individuals. Beside him, Remus swore quietly. The book hadn't said anything about guards.

Only the leader seemed to have any sense of order. Though no less grubby, he at least had the dignity to stand up straight, and seemed to be attempting an imperious sneer, though it came off as more of a grimace. He was holding a cruel-looking scimitar in one hand, and a flag in the other.

The banner was half black, half green, and had the letters _"I.L.G_ " painted on them in yellow- though they clearly hadn't left enough room for the "G" and it was squashed awkwardly into the last quarter.

"If these guys are actual League members," Remus muttered under his breath, "then _I_ am."

The group squinted at the two intruders as they stopped a few feet in front of them, muttering among themselves in Gobbledygook. After several minutes of this, the leader spat a thick glob of phlegm at the feet of Remus and grinned nastily.

"G'Morning to you," He said with a thick, Irish accent, "Not often we get _wizards_ coming through ere'."

"We don't want any trouble," Remus replied calmly, "With you _or_ the League. We just want passage."

The goblin chewed noisily on something unseen, and likely unpleasant. He seemed in no hurry to give a reply, so Remus kept talking.

"If you let us pass then we won't have any trouble."

It was a thinly veiled threat, Remus clearly hoping the goblins natural cowardice would prevail. Nevertheless, he subtle moved a hand down to rest on his wand holster. If it came to violence, Sirius was fairly confident that they could win- in fact, given the quality of the 'soldiers', he doubted it would be much of a fight at all, but neither wizards were keen on killing anyone before even getting into Ireland.

The lead goblin just grinned smugly, seemingly confident. "There's one of _you-_ plus the dog- and thirteen of _us_. I think if there's _trouble_ then we'll be _winnin_ ', don't ya' think?"

 _Arrogant as well as stupid,_ Sirius thought.

"What about a bribe, then?" Remus tried. It was a bluff- neither men had any wizarding money on them, or anything valuable enough to buy passage.

The creature in front of them seemed truly conflicted for a moment, the offer of gold more tempting than the threat of violence. goblins were greedy by nature, and this lot were far from the practiced merchants of Gringotts. Some quick transfiguration might well work. The goblin looked conflicted, eyes darting between Remus and the boathouse.

Eventually he reluctantly said, "Cap'n Slipshank _trusted_ us to keep out intruders, so that's what we're gonna do. No gold can buy me a new set o' _guts_ when he rips mine out."

Remus stilled. It seemed the goblins actually _were_ working with the League, though surely not as official members.

Sirius slinked back, hackles up, getting ready to transform and start slinging spells. The disguise he had donned before taking his Animagus form would still be there when he changed back, so there was little chance of the goblins recognizing him, but he still would have liked to avoid a fight if possible. The goblin leader barked something sharply in Gobbledygook to his fellows and hefted his weapon. His troops, or at least the half that were listening, formed up in a rough line opposite the wizards, leering with anticipation.

Remus let his wand slip into his hand, keeping it hidden from the goblins. A quick shield would stop the lone crossbow bolt, and then a few overpowered _Bombarda's_ would scatter the rest so he could pick them off with stunners or body-binds. They would just have to hope that whatever was lurking in the water didn't join in, or that there wouldn't be any more goblins in the boathouse.

Before either side had a chance to fire the first shot, they were interrupted.

" _Shingshang,_ put that _darn_ thing away before you hurt yourself."

The voice belonged to a new figure emerging from the structure and into the dim light. A woman, bent double and hobbling on a wooden cane, covered in seemingly endless layers of wrinkles. She was more presentable than the goblins, wearing a set of faded floral robes and pink slippers. There was, however, something wrong about her; she looked on the surface like a harmless old woman, but in his Animagus form Sirius could smell something was _off._

She ignored Remus entirely, instead focusing her ire on the amassed goblins, who were all backing away slowly.

"You dearies should pay more attention to who you're talking to," she said, voice sugary sweet, "No sense getting yourselves killed guarding this old place- the only reason you're _here_ is because your bosses don't trust you to do anything important."

Of the goblins, only the leader- Shingshang, it seemed- had enough spine to reply. "We got ordersMetheldula, same as you."

The woman didn't move a muscle, but a moment later Shingshang was yanked into the air by an invisible force, before being pulled backwards at high speed, screaming all the while. In seconds he was dangling by his ankle above the black waters, gibbering incoherently. Sirius could just barely make out a dark shadow begin to circle the goblin.

 _Hag? No, no hag has magic that precise,_ Sirius said inwardly, sitting back on his haunches and staring at the old woman.

The woman cheerfully turned away from the goblin, addressing the rest of his cohort. "If you kids really thought you could tangle with _two_ wizards and come out on top, then you must be delusional."

Remus shared a look with Sirius. Two?

"Lucky I'm here or you'd _all_ be at the bottom of the lake by now. Pay attention and you might learn something." She finally turned to the two intruders, still smiling cheerfully, and said, "This wizard smells like _dog_ , and this dog smells like _wizard."_

The atmosphere changed instantly. The remaining goblins suddenly seemed much more interested, all traces of slovenliness or cowardice disappearing. Sirius could see a mix of greed and hate light up in their eyes. Even the bloody _goblins_ here despised werewolves.

"A _wolf-man_ ," one said, seemingly stepping up to take the place of the unfortunate Shingshang, "and an Animagus. Keeping secrets from us, are you?"

Remus kept his tone calm, but Sirius could tell he was itching to grab his wand again, "Our business is our own g _oblin,_ and as for you-" he turned to the woman- "I wasn't aware there were any crones left in England, or that there were any toadying for the I.L.G. This lot I can understand, but what did you do to get thrown down here?"

The crone just laughed. "It's a long story dearie, but in short I got caught snacking on the wrong person- if you count goblins as people, I certainly don't- and this is my punishment. 'Seven years and seven days you shall spend in the dark' he said, waving that bloody stick around, as though I give a damn about your lots' silly obsession with numbers."

Sirius was entirely thrown off-balance. The woman was a crone? Mysterious, and exceedingly rare dark creatures, he vaguely remembered learning about them in Defence Against the Dark Arts- a race of witch-like beings, who gained power through devouring other magical creatures, _particularly_ Witches and wizards. Some Magizoologists theorized them to be distantly related to Hags and Veela, or simply _were_ hags that got old enough, while others thought them to be a type of Wendigo. The ministry had classified them as beasts and hunted down every crone in Britain sometime during the 1930's.

It seems some had survived.

Judging by how old this one looked, and by how effortlessly it had thrown Shingshang around, it was clearly powerful. Sirius felt a wave of revulsion run involuntarily through him at the thought of how many wizards she must have devoured over the years.

"I don't suppose you'll be more reasonable than this lot and let us pass?" Remus said, edging back away from the line of slowly advancing goblins.

Metheldula laughed again. "And deny myself a good meal? It's been so _long_ since I had a _wizard_ for dinner."

The new goblin leader- clearly no smarter than Shingshang- turned to Metheldula. "Ministry pays good money for Werewolves. How about you eat the other one and we take _him_ upside?"

The crone snarled wordlessly and turned, seemingly about to smite the foolish creature into oblivion for his insolence. Before she got the chance, Remus' wand was out and a Blasting curse on his lips.

The orange, flickering spell slammed into the ground between the crone and goblins, sending both flying in opposite directions. Sirius leapt back, beginning to transform back. It seemed wandwork would be needed here.

Remus, a quick shield charm having protected him from his own blast, was already casting, hurling another two explosive spells at their opponents. The first succeeded in scattering the few remaining standing Goblins, while the second missed and sailed past Metheldula, seemingly stunned on the ground, instead shattered the supports underneath the Boathouse and sending the rotting structure careening into the water.

With a hideous scream Metheldula roused herself and launched straight into the air, hovering above the growing carnage. All hints of elderly lethargy were gone, cane forgotten or broken in the blast. She was snarling, long hair floating ethereally around her as though underwater, fingernails lengthened into bat-like talons, though apparently the creature could fly without matching wings.

The crone let out a howl and a bright purple flame appeared in her hand, growing with each passing second. With a gesture the fire leapt out of her grasp and towards Remus, who's back was turned, busy dealing the few goblins scared enough of Metheldula to muster up a charge at him.

" _Aquamortis!"_ roared Sirius, wand blurring in a complicated pattern. The wave of magically dead water intercepted the crones fire at the last second, the resulting explosion hurling Remus to the ground and creating a blast of shimmering steam in all directions. It was an obscure spell, difficult to cast without practice, and Sirius was glad to see he could still remember it.

Remus stood up groggily, wand missing, and Sirius darted over, pulling him away. The explosion giving him an idea, he muttered a quick mist-maker charm, pouring continuous power into it to add to the rapidly dissipating cloud. He needed time to plan and hoped the creature wouldn't be able to find them without coming much closer.

"KILL THEM, KILL THEM BOTH!" Metheldula howled through the cloud, and it seemed that judging from the following commotion most of the goblins had survived the explosions.

"Where muh' wan'," Remus said faintly, stumbling out of Sirius' grasp and then falling back onto the ground. Sirius rushed to grab him again, hurrying them both away from the site of the explosion to avoid another attack. As his hand touched the back of Remus' neck, Sirius felt a patch of something wet and sticky running from the top of his head down. _Shit._

" _Episkey,"_ Sirius murmured, healing the immediate wound as best he could. Proper medical attention would be needed, but for now he needed his friend in fighting condition. _"_ Sorry Moony, this won't be pleasant. _Inpulsia._ "

The resulting shock resulted in a sharp yelp and Remus leaping up, the spell forcibly releasing a wave of magically enhanced adrenaline through his systems. He was about to say something, but Sirius threw a hand over his mouth with a meaningful glare. The dense fog would keep them hidden for now, but a careless yell could give their position away.

"We need to take her out before she finds us," he hissed, keeping his voice as low as possible, "I don't know if the two of us can win in a straight fight, not while she's in the air. I say bombard the ceilingand _force_ her to come closer."

Remus shook his head. "We'd end up buried as well."

The two stilled as a goblin staggered past them only a few feet away from their position, waving a broken pike around at the air around him. _Shit, will a stunner be noticed from the air? Can we risk it?_

It didn't turn out to be necessary- the pathetic creature walked straight past them, continuing his doomed pursuit, and Sirius turned back to his friend.

"Alright, we don't have time for this. I've got an idea, but you'll need to trust me."

"Always."

Sirius nodded and pointed his wand at a nearby pile of rubble, focusing hard.

* * *

Metheldula hovered above the mist. The intruders were cunning, that much was clear- covering their positions with a cloud had effectively neutered her abilities. crone-magic was powerful, but the dark energies she commanded were geared towards obliterating her enemies, not anything as mundane as _wind._

Not for the first time she cursed the damnable goblin that trapped her down here. If wizard society had _any_ good ideas, it was taking the little buggers wands away, although in her opinion stopping there was a mistake. So she had eaten _one_ nephew- did she really deserve to have to live in the dark with these _creatures_? It had only been four years, but felt more like four hundred.

With a snap of her finger the entrance to the cavern collapsed- only adding to the cloud, she noted with annoyance- cutting off the two wizards only viable escape.

 _Gods_ , she was hungry. The things in the water were enough to satiate her physical need for food, but did nothing to truly _satisfy_ her. Only the flesh of magical beings could do that, and the magic of the lake-dwellers was so _mundane,_ the thaumaturgic equivalent of boiled cabbage. These newcomers, though, were something else entirely. It had been _decades_ since she'd tasted Werewolf.

The other wizard was also intriguing- he had an intoxicating stench of despair that was intriguing, and Metheldula wondered where exactly he'd come from. She'd encountered that scent before, on one who had been attacked by Soul-Eaters. _I wonder..._

Metheldula's sharp eyes caught a flash of metallic movement in the mist and sent a rippling bolt of lightning flashing towards it. The resulting scream sounded distinctly Goblin-esque, and she remembered that the two wizards weren't wearing anything metal. _Bollocks_.

"Come out little wizards," she cackled hopefully, "You can't hide forever!"

Suddenly, a dark shape darted out of the mist, racing on four legs down the slope towards the beach, seemingly ignoring the safety of the raised path. Metheldula snarled, realizing the shape was the Animagus form of the despair-drenched wizard, and swooped down towards it, hands raised. She wasn't about to let the lake-dwellers eat her prize before she had a chance.

The crone raised a hand and the stone in front of her quarry rose up sharply, creating a solid wall of earth, before curling into a circular prison around the dog-shaped wizard. Metheldula grinned as a moment later the rocky walls collapsed down onto him and then _pushed_ down. Even from the air the crone could hear the shattering of bone as the unfortunate Animagus was crushed to death. He'd keep until later.

A flash of purple light lit up her peripheral vision, and Metheldula turned, swatting the magical projectile out of the air.

These intruders were proving to be so much _fun._

* * *

Remus strode out of the mist, wand blurring into complex patterns as he muttered a series of curses and charms under his breath. The chain of spells he was pouring out was taught as part of Auror training, a series of kill-spells designed for no-prisoner situations. He'd learned it from James- the Auror Academy didn't take werewolves- and while Remus hadn't used it in years, he still remembered every movement.

_Entrails-liquefier, Bloodfire Curse, Severing Charm, Bone-breaker, Splinter Piercer, repeat until everything in the room- or in this case the cavern- is dead._

Despite the speed and lethality of his casting, Metheldula dodged or battered aside everything he sent at it, cackling hideously and seemingly enjoying herself. The crone was supernaturally fast in spite of her apparent age, and nothing he did seemed to strain her in the slightest. It didn't matter- so long as she kept toying with him, the plan was working,

The transfigured dog had bought them some time while the real Sirius sneaked around the far wall under disillusionment and silencing charms. Neither wanted to bungle their chance, especially after witnessing just how dangerous Metheldula really was.

Without warning, Remus broke his spell-chain, instead conjuring a wide stream of fire that he sent spinning upwards. It enveloped her, and for a moment Remus thought that he'd actually succeeded, but as the flickering light faded his opponent was revealed unharmed, a perfect sphere of flame held in one hand. With a vicious grin, Metheldula hurled it back down to him.

Remus banished it a second after leaving her hand- it was still only conjured fire, after all- and responded with a piercing curse that came within an inch of hitting her.

Metheldula snarled, and around him the earth rose up into a curved prison.

Turning the closest of the rapidly forming walls into loose gravel- not having the time or ability to do anything more- and leapt through the resulting gap as his would-be prison crashed together. Narrowly dodging another bolt of lightning, Remus sent an overpowered banisher at the pile of loose rubble that had formed where he'd been standing a moment before. Metheldula was forced to dive low to dodge the hail of stone, but even as she did Remus felt a thick piece of rock slam into his gut, dropping him to the floor and hurling his wand out of his hand with a gasp. _Shit._

Cackling, Metheldula swooped down closer to Remus, using one hand to slowly raise the wet earth up around his body, thick mud clinging tightly to him and trapping him in place. As the crone grew closer, grinning with rotting teeth, Remus swallowed hard. _Come on Sirius, where are you._

* * *

Sirius moved as slowly as he could, not wanting to disrupt the disillusionment charm covering him. The crone's senses were sharp, that much was clear, and it had been a gamble that his trick would work at all. He'd been relying that time and distance were a factor, and it seemed he'd been right- Metheldula's efforts were now entirely focused on Remus, who seemed to be putting up a decent fight.

He remembered learning that spell-chain alongside James, and later teaching it to several members of the order. James had never liked no-prisoner techniques like that, even against Death Eaters, but Sirius doubted he'd have any objection to using it against the creature hovering above them. The creature was clearly absurdly powerful and had to have eaten _hundreds_ of magical beings. It was a wonder that the Ministry hadn't caught her years ago.

He was almost directly behind where the crone _would_ be if she descended a little bit further. Unless he was completely out of sight of the creature, Sirius didn't dare cast anything- he'd seen how easily she'd swatted aside Remus first spell.

Behind him, the dark, lurking shape of a Goblin noticed the strange rippling of air and perked up.

Sirius cursed as a bright flash of lightning caught him by surprise, Metheldula's attack narrowly missing Remus but successfully sending him stumbling to the ground. He blinked rapidly, white impressions remaining on his eyelids of the rocks around him as he did so. _Great. He's got a concussion and now I'm going blind._

Before Sirius had a chance to move any further, his misfortune was compounded as a hail of rocks flew past the crone and directly towards him. Swearing, he conjured a flickering yellow shield to block the projectiles, shooting a dark- and completely pointless- glare at Remus. The shield he'd used wasn't subtle, and his disillusionment charm had already broken with the rapid movement- It was up to luck now whether Metheldula was paying attention to what was going on below her.

Thankfully, she was seemingly completely pre-occupied with Remus, now wandless and trapped, swooping low to talk to him. The crone was directly in front of him, less than fifty feet away- one well-aimed curse would blow her to pieces before she knew what was happening. Sirius readied his wand.

As he did so, the Goblin, propelled by an unfortunate mixture of ambition and stupidity, leapt from a rock with its dagger drawn.

* * *

"You'll make a fine roast, dearie," Metheldula crooned, voice dripping with malice. "Nice and plump, and werewolves are always so _juicy._ It's a shame I'm stuck down here without proper ingredients- you'd be lovely with some garlic and onion.

The crones free hand lit up with flickering blue fire. The heat it put out was intense, unnaturally so, and Remus felt like his skin was about start bubbling.

_Any time now, Sirius._

"I'll do it quick, so your skin is nice and burnt but the meat stays juicy. That's the secret to a good roast, you know- _speed_. Pity about your friend, he's all skin and bone. I'll have to boil him in a stew."

Remus didn't dare look behind the crone, in case he gave away a hint of their plan. Metheldula was moving closer and closer, the fire in her hand growing hotter with each second. _I need more time!_

"Wait!" He yelled desperately, throwing out the first words that came to mind as the crone began preparing to hurl the flames at him. "You kill me- you die tomorrow. I _guarantee_ it."

That gave her pause, and she assessed Remus, hunger and caution warring behind her eyes. After a few seconds caution won out and her arm dropped. The fire dulled as she did so, reduced to a flickering purple light sitting obediently in the palm of her hand.

" _Talk_."

"We're working with the British ministry- you kill me, and they'll send a _platoon_ of Aurors down here to flush you out."

Metheldula said nothing, so he kept talking, desperation creeping into his voice. "Every crone in Britain was hunted down. As soon as they realize who killed us, they'll stop at nothing to get you- you said yourself, you can't leave."

"Then surely you'll tell them about me once you get into Ireland, and I'll be dead anyway," she said simply.

Remus swallowed hard, casting around for an answer. "Not necessarily. I can tell the Ministry that a cave in killed Sir- my co-worker. I'll even make an unbreakable vow to prove it if you don't believe me."

Metheldula smiled, but as she did so the fire in her hand suddenly grew to gigantic proportions, stopping only inches away from Remus' face. A second later it retracted back, leaving him wide-eyed and gasping for breath desperately. The crone just giggled at his panicking and started talking again.

"This sounds like the bluff of a man about to die- I've played enough poker to recognize that. Why would the ministry send a _werewolf_ of all people into Ireland?"

"Covert mission," he said, sweat pouring down his face, from a mixture of heat and anxiety. "But the I.L.G will only talk to a someone they know, and I have prior experience with one of their senior officers."

"Who?"

"Grimtooth," he said, making up a suitably Goblin-esque name and hoping she wasn't actually familiar with the League's organization. "I worked with him during the war."

The crone looked thoughtful for a few long seconds, the fire dancing around her hand. _Is she buying it?_

"Oh? _I've_ never heard of a Grimtooth in the League."

"Do you know every single League member?" He replied simply.

Metheldula snorted. "Of course not. I barely bothered to remember this lot's names, and they've been my only company for a _year_."

"It seems," Remus said, still trying desperately to buy Sirius as much time as he could, "That the safest thing to do would be to let me go- you already have my co-worker to eat if you wish."

"That's true," the crone allowed, looking thoughtful. "But I am _very_ hungry."

"Hungry enough to lose your head over it?"

"No, I suppose not,", Metheldula said, her voice suddenly resuming its earlier, grandmotherly tone. "But before I release you, I have _one_ question."

"Oh?"

" _Why_ would the Ministry send a former prisoner of Azkaban with you?"

Remus' face went slack for a second before he could paint a look of confusion onto it. He tried to talk, but for the first time words failed him as he looked for a suitable lie and drew a blank.

"Hah!" the crone crowed, voice triumphant, "Yer' face is giving you away. Should have thought up an excuse for _that_ one ahead of time laddie. No, I think you're lying, I think your friend wasan escaped prisoner, _and_ I think no-one will be come looking for you after I pick the meat off your bones."

Remus again tried to talk, but the mud keeping him in place had resumed rising up his body as she talked, growing tighter and tighter with every word spoken, until he could hardly breathe let alone speak. In the same moment the purple fire sparked up again, engulfing her hand and then entire arm.

"Now enough talk- hold still dearie, this needs to be _just right."_

Remus could feel the sweat on his cheek start to steam and hiss as she came closer. He closed his eyes, the heat becoming too much to bear.

_Sirius, it's now or never._

There was a flash of silver and blue, visible even through his eyelids, and the burning stopped entirely. In the same instance, his limbs were freed from the cloying mud. Remus fell back, hitting the ground hard and staring up at Metheldula. The crone looked confused, as though even she wasn't sure why her magic had stopped working.

Hand reaching up to her neck, Metheldula blinked as a razor-thin, red line appeared across her throat.

"What... did you _do."_ the crone croaked, blood dribbling from her lips as she spoke.

She swayed forward unsteadily, but when she swayed back again her head didn't co-operate with the rest of her body, detaching entirely and hitting the ground with a dull thud. Metheldula's eyes stared up lifelessly at him even as her body joined her on the ground.

Behind where she had been standing, Remus could make out the bedraggled form of Sirius, breathing heavily but grinning. He was clearly injured, and covered in blood- though most of it didn't seem to be his.

"What took you," Remus gasped, staring at the limp form of Metheldula, "So _bloody_ long."

Sirius shot a distasteful look at the twitching corpse. "That's a nice way of saying _thank you for saving me Padfoot._ Bloody Goblin tried to shank me, if you must know."

Remus nodded wearily, looking around the carnage of the cavern. There were still a few Goblins running around or watching the two of them fearfully, though most it seemed were hiding. With the crone and their leader both dead, none seemed particularly keen on stopping the intruders. Sirius didn't blame them- Remus had clearly improved a lot since the last time he'd seen him duel, even if it hadn't ultimately been enough to stop Metheldula. He wouldn't have lasted past the first exchange in his current state.

"Speaking of which- they saw you transform, _and_ they know I'm a werewolf. Word will travel fast, your Animagus abilities aren't going to be much use to us if the Ministry puts two and two together."

Sirius swore. Much of their planning had revolved around the assumption that the ministry had no idea about his Animagus form. It seemed their trip to Ireland was turning out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy- it was now certain they'd need the Gilded King's help with the heist. This whole mission was off to a colossally bad start.

"We'll deal with that when we have to," he said instead, striding down to the edge of the beach. "Unless you think we can just kill them all."

Remus joined him, making a face at the thought. "Doubt I'd have the stomach for it. Should have asked me _before_ the full moon."

Sirius nodded and the two headed down to the water's edge, carefully following the wooden path to avoid the loose gravel leading down to the lake. The provided boat was no luxury cruise- indeed, it looked barely sea-worthy, held together with rust-covered nails and rotting wood planks. There also appeared to be no oars, or any other way of propelling it, leaving magic as the only option for movement. Remus just hoped the enchantments were still functioning.

"Last chance to call it quits," Sirius murmured, suppressing a shudder as he thought of the things lurking underneath the water's surface.

"Bloody crone caved in the exit anyway," he said by way of reply, stepping into the boat resolutely. Sirius followed after him a second later, the vessel rocking perilously as they got in it.

As soon as both were seated in the creaking bench, the boat set off on its own, ploughing through the water at high speed. Remus groaned and lay back. It seemed the adrenaline shot Sirius had given him was wearing off- he'd have one hell of a headache tomorrow morning, but with any luck the injury wasn't anything serious.

"Long ride," Remus groaned, throwing a warming charm onto one of the provided blanked and curling up underneath it. "Get some sleep while you can Padfoot."

Sirius nodded, but made no attempt to sleep, waiting until his friend was snoring soundly before moving.

Staying as quiet as possible, he gingerly took off his shirt. The Goblin that had leapt at him had thankfully missed anything vital, instead cutting into arm, causing his wand to fall out of his hand. The silencing charm had thankfully stopped his yell of agony from alerting Metheldula, but to stop the creature from letting out a warning of his own he'd had to strange it to death.

As suspected, a simple healing charm hadn't sufficed in closing his wound. He had stopped the bleeding, but running had partially opened it back up, and the skin around the gash was glowing an angry red. His thoughts went to the rusty, filth-encrusted knife that had cut him and he winced. A cleaning charm- not medical grade, but it would have to do- and another _Episkey_ succeeded in closing it again. He'd have to hope that would be enough to prevent infection.

There was nothing else he could do- just another scar he'd have to deal with. Sirius cast a quick numbing charm on himself, collapsed onto the bench opposite Remus and tried to sleep.

* * *

A/N: Well, here's chapter four. Longest one yet at 9k words, and all Sirius this time. Next chapter will be all Harry, a bit shorter, and hopefully a lot quicker to upload.

To be clear: The forest Sirius and Remus went to is not the Forbidden Forest, just one on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. They have nothing to do with whatever is going on in there. Yet.


End file.
